


The Mind's Power Over the Body

by nyx_baby



Series: Attraction to the Insane [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman Begins
Genre: Blood, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fear, Harley and OC become friends, I don't write NSFW so move along, I'm very sorry to the DID community, Jonathan and OC will eventually get together, Mentions of Murder, OC is kind of annoying but I love her, Slow Burn, Smoking, Violence, beta testing this story, couldn't resist putting in Harley, don't worry about the timeline, graphic descriptions of phobias and violence, i know this isn't how multiple personalities work, mutual secret pining, please give feedback constructively, slight AU, the hallucinations are written kinda like the fear landscapes from divergent lol, trigger warning, watch me make up stuff about fear toxin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyx_baby/pseuds/nyx_baby
Summary: Part one of Attraction to the Insane.xXx.They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing.They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life?.xXx.This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, based in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.UPDATE: This fic is also available on Tumblr @gothic-safari-clown. If you want to ask questions or submit your own blurbs, or even just get bonus headcanons for Jonathan and El, go ahead and give me a follow over there!
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Original Female Character(s), Typhon (Scarecrow Series)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Attraction to the Insane [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055489
Comments: 20
Kudos: 19





	1. New Beginnings

_"You know Gotham has a better psychology program; I still don't understand why you're going all the way to California," Jonathan complained as he helped Elianna load the last of her boxes into her old truck._

_Elianna Montgomery—Jonathan Crane's best—and only friend—that he had ever had. Jonathan had lived in the rural town of Arlen, Georgia his whole life, and for all 18 years of it had been spent ostracized and beaten down by those around him. Elianna had moved to Arlen with her mother a few months into the beginning of their sophomore year. He had been suspicious of her at first, of course, but after months of hard and consistent work on El's part, it had become apparent to him that she didn't fit in with the small town hive mind any more than he did. They had been close ever since, as inseparable as two people could be in their situation._

_"Because I need to get away from this side of the country for a little while, go somewhere more open-minded." Elianna had sighed (only half-joking) for what seemed like the thousandth time that week. "And I don't think Gotham has a better anything than anywhere in California from what I've heard." She had pointed out with a short laugh, out of breath from hauling boxes as she finally loaded the last box and shut the tailgate. "I think you're just going to miss me." A wide smile took over her face, and she leaned against the back of the truck._

_"Where did you get an idea like that?" He played along (although his heart wasn't in it) and joined her against the truck stiffly. Even after three years of unwavering (and undeserving) trust from her, Jonathan found himself uncomfortable initializing any friendly intimacy, although he did try._

_"Don't worry, don't have to admit it, because I know that I'm right." He didn't say anything, indicative that he truly was upset about his friend's decision to move across the country. "Well, I'm not changing my mind, so if you're going to make this big of a deal about it, then just come with me. I know you applied and got accepted too. I saw the letter in your folder. You can't stay here forever." She finished seriously. "And I'm going to miss you too, just come with me! It isn't too late; we can fit your stuff with mine and leave this afternoon." He shook his head, looking at his feet, unaffected by her hopeful plea._

_"You know I can't."_

_"Why not?" The question had come so quickly that it surprised Elianna even as she spoke it. "Because of your attachment to that damn house?" She impatiently followed up the inquiry, pointing down that street at the shape of the old Keeny manor in the distance. "You need to be within road-tripping distance of this awful little town? That's not healthy, and you know it, Jonathan," she had continued, probably harsher than needed. "You need space. You need a change in scenery, and you need to get away from that...mausoleum," she lowered her hand, resting it on his shoulder instead, "and I don't just mean up the coast a couple of states." He just shook his head again and looked at her with piercing blue eyes, so bright in contrast with the bleak, bleak things that life had inflicted upon him. He deserved to get away from everything that sleepy, superstitious Arlen was capable of unleashing, as far away as possible._

_"I can't." He had repeated more firmly. A few seconds passed before a quiet, "But maybe I'll visit sometime," by way of apology, and those damned eyes were begging her just to let it go. El hadn't been surprised by his refusal, just disappointed. She had known when she asked that he wouldn't go with her, but she couldn't risk the small chance that he would._

_"Fine." The redhead had sighed; she knew when she was beaten. "I'll call you when I get there." She pulled her friend into a tight hug, which she knew that he hated, even if he hugged her back, squeezing softly. "Take care of yourself, love." She breathed, barely holding in the parting tears that stung her eyes and pulled back, realizing that at that rate, she would never leave. "And try to keep him under control," She had added quietly, earning a stiff nod from Jonathan. He didn't like to acknowledge Scarecrow out loud, too risky, too easy to be found out._

_"I will. Don't forget about me." He recovered quickly and gave El a rare smile, to which she laughed._

_"Me? Forget about you? Jonathan Crane, you wound me."_

_Only minutes later, and she had said goodbye to her parents as well. Seeing them together after their separation years prior had been emotional for El, and Jonathan's presence only strengthened that emotion. The three people that she cared most about—possibly she only people that she cared about—and she had had them all under the same roof for a few hours._

_Even as she drove away from the picture, Elianna couldn't help but feel blissful. At peace. She was getting away from Arlen, starting her life. Even so, she had sworn to herself then and there that she would never forget her friend Jonathan._

.xXx.

That, of course, was years ago. Elianna and Jonathan had kept in touch well enough; up until recent months, at least. Life had required both of them to prioritize other things, as life so often does. Jonathan was working hard at Arkham Asylum, making a bit of a name for himself in certain circles of Gotham. After working there for only a year, he had been nominated to represent the facility in addition to his regular work, leaving the warden to deal with administrative matters. As far as El could tell, he seemed to be enjoying life in the city, as well as his high ranking position in his career.

Elianna herself had followed a similar plan and had become a psychiatrist in California. She had started her own practice, and even had her own office space. But after years of emailing her friend from across the country, she had grown restless and eventually applied for a job at Arkham. As much as she loved her line of work and her new life, she had found herself growing bored with simplicity. Besides allowing her to reconnect with Jonathan, Gotham gave the promise of something exciting and bold.

Unfortunately, after almost a year of almost no communication, El hadn't had the chance to tell Jonathan about her application, let alone her acceptance to Arkham after several interviews by phone. For days, she had deliberated giving him a call to celebrate her new position, and ultimately decided against it; she couldn't pass up the chance for a surprise reunion. All she could do was hope that he would be as happy to see her as she would be to see him.


	2. First Day Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elianna begins to settle into her new life as a Gothamite and has an uneventful day at work. Mostly exposition, but I swear it gets better from here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this story, I'm going to be blending a few different canons to fit my vision for how it's going to go. There's no real rhyme or reason to it, other than aesthetic purposes. If you try to gatekeep, you're getting blocked, so why don't we sit and enjoy the story?

Elianna had always preferred unpacking better to packing. Gathering her things to move to Arlen, to California, to Gotham, she found it all tedious, and every time she thought that she had enough boxes, she ended up needing more. Unpacking, however, gave her a sense of fulfillment. To watch a space to become her own, she adored. Even more so, with the perfect space to conquer, and her new Gotham apartment was truly the perfect space. A small balcony with just enough room for an outdoor table and two matching chairs, and plenty of room for her plants, with just enough storage space inside; her belongings seemed to know exactly where they wanted to go even before she began to place them. As such, she allowed her mind to drift as she gradually took over the space.

Jonathan had never been oblivious to things in his environment, a bit passive sometimes, but never unaware. At this point in the process, she was certain that he already knew that she would be starting work at Arkham in a few days. Even besides his relatively high position, she knew that at the first mention of a new doctor coming in from California, he would have had his suspicions, and from there, he would have easily nosed out that it was her. He didn't believe in coincidence, so there was no chance of him being surprised by her presence, but it was a nice thought anyway.

Even so, El was looking forward to their reunion. In fact, it was almost all she could think about over the next few days. As much as she had loved her freedom on the west coast at first, she had been eager to leave at the end. Each day had begun to bleed into the next, and as shameful as it felt to admit it to herself, the help that she had provided people with her practice had stopped being gratifying. She had ached for something new and exciting, and Gotham seemed exactly the place to give her was she wanted.

Soon enough, it was the morning of her first day, and she allowed herself a few extra seconds in the mirror to take herself in. She had kept her look simple with professional makeup, black slacks, and practical heels, and had chosen a green button-down that complemented her green eyes and deep red hair, the curls of which she had wrestled into a stylish bun. It was one of her favorite work outfits, but first-day jitters had her second-guessing every micro decision. She finally forced herself out the door before she had a chance to change a single thing.

As she drove, El hardly even noticed the morning traffic while she struggled not to let her nerves get the better of her. The imposing silhouette of Arkham Asylum coming into view did nothing to help as she pulled up to the guard gate after far too short a drive.

"Hi, I'm scheduled to start work here today. Doctor Montgomery?" She told the guard, having rolled her window down upon approaching.

"They told me to expect you today; you're right on time." The guard said with a smile. His relaxed demeanor allowed her to relax a bit, and she returned his smile. "Go on in, the employee parking lot is to the left, and you can pick up your new ID at the desk."

He raised the gate for her, and she drove through with a thankful wave and a deep, bracing breath as she crossed the threshold to her new life.

Once she parked, El allowed herself a few seconds of deep awe from her parked car as she gazed up at the massive, gothic structure before her up close for the first time. She found it equal parts beautiful and intimidating as it towered against the grey sky. She had seen pictures online, but the deep respect those photos had instigated in her was pale compared to seeing the real thing.

Finally, with another deep breath, she stepped out of the car, purse over her shoulder and briefcase in hand. The two other guards at the door let her in with no fuss, and in far too short a time, she was standing in front of the lobby secretary, caught in a last-minute scramble to gather her thoughts.

"Good morning." That's a good start. "This is my first day; the parking guard said you're expecting me? Doctor Montgomery." Oh god, do I sound like a snob?

"Oh, of course!" The secretary smiled easily, allowing El to relax a bit. "Here, I have your badge, it doubles as your key card for your office as well as the interview rooms," the brunette explained smoothly as she handed over the card and a retractable clip. "And here, I have a map of the building for you too, trust me, you don't want to get lost here," she continued lightly and handed over a small stack of papers stapled together; each floor had its own page for convenience. "Why don't you go ahead and wait here and I'll call Warden Sharpe down. He likes to meet all the new doctors in person. If you ever need anything you can ask me, it's what I'm here for." She had clearly rehearsed this shpeal. El thanked her and stepped off to the side as the lady picked up the office phone and clipped the badge to the breast pocket of her shirt.

The redhead took these few free minutes to look around the spacious lobby, mildly surprised by the decor. Judging by the building's cold exterior, one wouldn't have guessed that the interior would be decorated so... lavishly. It was the kind of old sophisticated ambiance that managed to convey both class and menace; all the while, the vague smell of you probably don't want to be here clung tightly to everything. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be admitted as a patient.

"Doctor Montgomery?" The sudden voice came from behind Elianna, pulling her out of her thoughts. When she turned, she was met by a rotund, sour-faced older man approaching; this must be Warden Sharpe. "Welcome to Arkham." He shook her hand with a smile that didn't quite suit his face. This was closer to what she had expected, not the kind, helpful people that she had interacted with so far. She found it oddly comforting to have those expectations met. "It's wonderful to have you here with us finally."

"Thank you, sir, I'm glad for the opportunity to work here." She prayed that her smile looked more genuine than his.

"Excellent. I'll show you to your office, and then I'll leave you to get familiar with the building, come with me." He gestured for her to follow him, and they fell into step as he led her up the stairs and deeper into the labyrinthian structure.

Elianna did her best to keep track of the turns, halls, and stairways they took on the way, all the while volleying the awkward small talk being directed at her by the older man. Finally, they came to a door at the end of a hallway.

"This is you, swipe your card here, and the light will go green. Once the door closes again, it will lock automatically behind you, but there is a button on your desk that will unlock it as well to allow you to let someone in." El nodded in understanding and pulled her card on the clip's retractable wire to swipe it on the door pad, opening the door to her new office for the first time.

"We've just had someone else leave, so lucky for you, this corner office just became available, so you have a bit of a view." The warden pointed out, and indeed there were two large corner windows in the light tan walls, along with a sturdy-looking wooden desk—there was the door button there—with two large file cabinets behind it. The windows overlooked the edge of the parking lot and the woods next to it. All things considered, it's a rather nice view. "Now, your office chair is on wheels, but the visitor chair is bolted to the floor as a precaution. You can feel free to decorate however you like. Still, please keep in mind that some of our more...colorful inmates may use any personal items to their advantage, your more dangerous sessions will be conducted in the secure interview rooms."

"I understand." El nodded and once again felt the nervous energy niggling at her stomach at the mention of 'dangerous sessions.' "Thank you very much, sir."

"Yes, yes, of course," his tone was dismissive, and he checked his watch with a stern look on his face. "I'll have to be on my way now; I have some business to attend to. You'll have no patients today; you're free to go home whenever you like, but make sure to pick up your week's itinerary from the desk tomorrow morning, and if you need any help, there's sure to be someone around to give you a hand."

The two exchanged professional goodbyes, and Elianna was—finally—left alone in her office. As she looked around, she couldn't help but dislike the furniture, although it wasn't as though she could do about that. She found herself wondering idly if she could repaint, and already fantasizing about what she would bring to decorate. Nothing personal, on the warden's recommendation, but maybe a few plants? Some simple desk ornaments?

After a minute or so, she decided to take the warden's advice and familiarize herself with the place. She secured her map in her currently empty briefcase, deciding to use it only for reference, and then left the case under her desk to leave it for the night. She had no cases yet, so no reason to take it home.

Elianna managed to make it back to the lobby, only making one or two wrong turns, which she corrected quickly. Satisfied with her ability to make it to and from her office, she spent another hour or so to get her bearings with the rest of the place. However, she was starting to get bored, and after not yet bumping into Jonathan, she decided that he must have been busy and decided to go home. She stopped by her office to get her purse, and then left for the night, saying goodbye to the secretary on the way out.

The redhead found that she felt infinitely better about her new position after having gotten a feel for the environment rather than just jumping in straight away. She slept soundly that night, more excited than ever to once again start a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is mostly exposition. I know it's not super fun to read. But now that everything is all set up, we can actually get into the meat of it, and finally reunite El and our boy Jonathan. Much love!


	3. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El goes from having one friend in Arkham to two, and she recalls important moments from her friendship with Jonathan over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mention of bullying and choking.

When her alarm went off the next morning, Elianna awoke with an inspiring vigor for the day, doing her makeup and getting dressed in record time. She was excited actually to start working in a place that needed her; the main reason she had decided to move her career to Gotham—besides Jonathan, of course—was the dire and consistent need of psychiatrists to treat and diagnose the high concentration of criminals with psychological disorders in the city. As crude as it sounded, abnormal psychology had always been her favorite field of study, and this city had the best chance of taking her career where she wanted it to be.

She greeted the parking guard with an excited grin, flashing her new badge, to which he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up and raised the gate to let her in. In a few short minutes, she entered into the lobby of the asylum, picked up her schedule from the friendly secretary, and as she moved toward the stairs, she did a quick scan of the lobby for her friend, and with no sign of him she headed up to her office.

A glance over her itinerary for the week told her that it would be filled with relatively low profile sessions brought to her office for her to speak with. _Makes sense; I would probably ease in a new hire too,_ she thought to herself. However, there was one at the end of the week that caught her attention. A Victor Zsasz, who she would be speaking to in a secure room rather than in her office. A small note next to that slot further stated that there would be two guards accompanying her on the assignment rather than one; she couldn't be sure if it was that note or something subconscious, but something about that name gave Elianna a sinking feeling of apprehension in her stomach that she found surprisingly liberating.

This sort of high profile patient had been exactly what she had secretly been hoping for in moving to the city. As satisfying as it was to help those in need, such as the people who had come to her office in California, this felt _right,_ and she found herself both terrified and excited for that particular session.

In the meantime, she decided to prepare for the four appointments she had scheduled that day. They were all scheduled for that morning, leaving her afternoon free, presumably for paperwork. In the end, all four seem to go by very quickly, and Elianna easily built a rapport with all of them. Technically speaking, she didn't truly believe that any of them needed to be in the facility. In this city, having a touch of anxiety was probably better than not. Of course, they wouldn't have been admitted for illegitimate reasons, so she ultimately decided that she simply didn't know them well enough to have reached the root of the problem yet.

Looking at the clock, Elianna saw that it was 1 PM and decided to take a break before filling out all of her paperwork to meet a few of her coworkers, and hopefully, _finally,_ see Jonathan.

She found herself chatting with a Doctor Harleen Quinzel, a bubbly blonde with a Jersey accent who insisted that El call her "Harley." The redhead quickly decided that she liked Doctor Quinzel, even if she seemed a bit quirky.

"I can't believe they gave you that corner office with the window; it is to die for!" The blonde practically oozed with amicable jealously.

"I didn't realize it was in such high demand." El laughed and took a moment to admire her new friend's good spirit, whose smile suddenly dropped a bit as she caught sight of something over El's shoulder.

"Oh, act natural, don't turn around," Harley said in a hushed voice.

"What?" Elianna was confused and a little concerned. "What's going on, why shouldn't I—"

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Doctor Montgomery?" A familiar voice said from behind the woman in question, and she gave a slow smile— _finally—_ to which Harley quirked an eyebrow. "I don't suppose either of you has seen her around." El fought the urge to hug Jonathan when she turned around and finally saw his face.

"Jonathan, you jerk, the look on Harley's face made me think it was someone important." She teased, and then hugged him anyway, which he returned.

"Glad to see you still think of me as highly as you used to." He said smugly as they separated; he seemed to have gotten better at handling physical contact, but she didn't want to push it. Taking him in, she found herself slightly stunned. He looked...good.

"God, look at you, you're not a stick anymore, you have color in your face and everything!" The redhead found herself smiling, so excited to see Jonathan— _her_ Jonathan—for the first time in years. He returned her smile with a faint one of his own, telling her in its own way that he was also happy to see her, even if he wouldn't say it out loud.

"Hold on, I'm sorry, you two know each other?" Harley chimed in from behind Elianna, bringing her back to reality.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I'm sure you two already know each other, but we actually went to high school together; we were the only two that weren't complete assholes." She explained, still a little giddy from the belated reunion.

"I wouldn't say that; we just had boundaries," Jonathan teased under his breath and shook Harley's hand. "Good to see you again, Doctor Quinzel."

"Wait, I thought you just moved here?" The blonde inquired to Elianna after giving their colleague a courteous nod.

"I did, we actually come from this tiny hick town in Georgia. Not that you could tell, thank goodness."

"Aw, that's fun that you're both here now! In that case, I'll leave you to catch up; I have an appointment to get to anyway. You two have fun, I'll see you later El," Harley gave her new friend a tight hug and a peck on the cheek before sashaying off to where she needed to be.

"Affectionate girl," Jonathan quipped amusedly.

"Yeah, she's a sweetheart." Elianna smiled. "By the way, what did you do to her? The look on her face when she saw you really had me nervous for a second."

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I have some antisocial tendencies. As it turns out, it makes people nervous."

"Yeah, most people. By the way, should we get to the part where you admit that you missed me, or are we just going to skip that altogether?" El teased, and Jonathan stood for a moment just looking at her with the faintest hint of a smile before glancing at his feet, and for that split second, he was that scrawny, awkward kid that she had known before.

"I did miss you," he admitted quietly and suddenly made direct eye contact, and Elianna's knees almost went weak. _What the hell?_ Had his eyes always been that _blue_? Of course, he had never necessarily been unattractive, but it had been so hard to see through all of his misery and standoffishness. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _he still seems a bit standoffish, but confidence looks good on him._

"I wasn't sure if you even knew I was here. I wanted to surprise you, actually."

"Of course, I knew you were here. Who do you think made Sharpe read that essay you submitted in the first place?" He fired back with a slight smirk, and _goddamn where did he learn to do that?_

"I don't know. I just assumed that he would read every submission resume he received. Does he not?" Jonathan shook his head. 

"I happened to notice your name on a stack of folders on his desk during a meeting, and I made sure he would read it."

"Wh- you knew the whole time?" She asked incredulously. "And you didn't even send me a text or anything, you little rat." Elianna faked upset, but once she thought about it, it actually made quite a bit of sense. Arkham was rather famous after all, and there were bound to be plenty of doctors as crazy as her applying regularly. And, she hated to think it, but the warden had seemed less than interested in taking a chance on hiring people, given his remark about someone else having quit "luckily for her."

"Aww, you really did miss me, didn't you?" She winked at him and nudged him with her elbow.

"Don't make me repeat it," he replied in an almost joking tone. "You're still the only person I can actually tolerate." He seemed to avoid the rest of that conversation by checking his watch. "And as much as I'd love to catch up some more, I also have an appointment to get to soon. Why don't you come to my apartment tonight and we can catch up? I'll text you the address."

"Oh, sure, that sounds great." He sent her the information, and they exchanged quick goodbyes, and El went back up to her office to finish her paperwork so that she would be ready to leave on time.

.xXx.

Elianna was still somewhat reeling from her friend's newfound confidence when she left for the day. The last time that she had seen him, she had come to the city to visit for three days during college, and he couldn't even ask for help on a report, and now he was able to blurt out "come to my apartment tonight" like it was nothing. All things considered, she was proud of him.

On the way to her car, Elianna found herself wondering if Jonathan had really changed that much in such a short amount of time. When she first met him, she had almost thought he was a ghost; he was so reserved. In fact, if she really thought about it, she could recall every detail of that day.

_It had been her first day at Arlen High since moving to the town with her mother. Her parents had just been divorced, and her mother had thought that a small town would be a good change to the chaos of the city they had lived in, and Elianna could hardly believe that the spit of road could be considered "civilization." As much as she enjoyed the spacious old home they had been able to afford, she wasn't looking forward to the surely boring life they would lead there._

_She had walked to school, and the whole time she couldn't stop looking forward to finally being able to drive herself places. 'Only a few months away.' She had been immediately pegged as the new girl—unsurprising given the small student body—and had been swooped up by the popular crowd, one Sherry Squires, to be exact. She seemed horribly dull and shallow, but Elianna decided that letting Squires have her way would be the easiest way to make friends and survive the next few years._

_However, the skinny, quiet boy with whom she had shared several classes had somehow caught her attention. Very unusual, given that he didn't seem to speak to anyone and quietly did his work the whole time. Maybe it was the bitterness rolling off of him, or maybe that the lack of socialization in a room full of obnoxious teenagers, but something about him was just...distinctly different._

_During the last passing period of the day, while expressing idle interest in whatever the hell Sherry was jabbering about, she had noticed that same boy shuffling through the hall on his own. Before El could ask Squires what his deal was, Bo Griggs, your stereotypical dumb jock, had schlepped over to him and shoulder checked him into the wall, his books tumbling to the floor while Sherry snickered._

_"Looks like Ichabod is in for a pounding," she sounded maliciously gleeful of that fact, and her arms cattily crossed over her chest only highlighted that fact._

_"Ichabod?" Like the Sleepy Hollow character? It was a weird name, but alright._

_"Oh, his real name is Jonathan, but nobody cares about that," Sherry had explained dismissively. "His last name is Crane, like the character from that book or whatever, but he's just so scrawny and weird, we all just call him Ichabod or Scarecrow." El had nodded in understanding and watched with conflicted emotions as Jonathan did his best to ignore the taunting and shoving directed at him. However, her mind was made up when a particularly nasty push sent the boy to the floor, hitting his head on the wall as he fell._

_"Okay, no! That's enough," she had spoken up before she even realized what she was doing. Sherry and Bo both seemed equally shocked as they looked at her in confusion, Bo actually stepping away from his quarry. "What the hell is your problem?" Bo's face had turned red._

_"It's about to be you, new bitch." He had snarled and took a few steps toward her._

_"Sure, I get that, you're intimidated by my brain cell count, but seriously, is that what the big deal is? You couldn't find anyone more stupid and pathetic than you, so you take out our insecurities on him? Grow up; I think more people here relate to that than you think." She snapped with a pointed look at Sherry, who gaped at El as she brushed past Bo like it was nothing. Wasting no time, she gathered Jonathan's books in a pile with her own and hauled him up by the arm, dragging him down the hall and away from the crowd. If this was to be the only class they didn't share, she would be very embarrassed._

_"Is your head alright?" She had asked the boy—'Jonathan, his name is Jonathan'—as she handed back his books._

_"It's fine." Hm. Not talkative. Shocker._

_"It looked like you hit pretty hard from where I was standing, are you sure?"_

_"I've had worse."_

_"Yeah, not surprised, given that bunch." She had turned to look at him as she spoke; he seemed to have been distancing himself as much as he could without being rude. "I'm Elianna, by the way."_

_"I know. You and your mother moved into the house next to ours. And you just ruined any chance you had of fitting in here." She had shrugged, already knowing the second part._

_"So what, I'm used to that. Besides, why would I want_ _to fit in with those guys?" The corner of Jonathan's mouth had twitched up in some facsimile of a smile._

_"Hell if I know." He had muttered. "But either way, it'll just get worse if you hang around me, you might want to keep your distance." He added flatly, all traces of any kind of personality from a second before gone._

_Look, I believe you, but I'd rather not. I doubt I can get any standing back now, and you seem much more interesting anyway." She had shrugged, to which Jonathan shook his head._

_"I mean it. Keep your distance." He had repeated and sped up, leaving her behind in the hallway with his much longer legs. It had been awkward that period when the teacher had assigned her to sit in the empty seat next to him._

Looking back, it hadn't altogether been a bad day. She had quickly established herself as someone not to be taken lightly, which had subsequently gotten her into some tight spots with the "popular" crowd. Besides that, even if it took a few extra weeks after Jonathan had realized that she wasn't going to leave him alone, she had finally gotten him to open up a bit to her. It was strange to think about how far they had come.

Even more so when she pulled up outside of Jonathan's apartment building, from what she could tell on the outside, each unit was fairly spacious; it seemed that he had done well for himself, although he hadn't been very picky about his living spaces for the most part. Unsurprising, given the conditions that his grandmother had kept him in. He had dragged himself out of the pits of hell into a (presumably) swanky apartment and a fairly prestigious job; she couldn't help but be impressed.

It didn't take her long to find a spot in guest parking, take the elevator up seven floors and knock on his door. When Jonathan answered the door, he was still in his work clothes minus the suit jacket, indicating that he had only barely gotten home himself.

"Hello, love," El greeted him with a quick hug before stepping inside and slipping her shoes off. She took a moment to take in the living area. It was furnished with that type of sturdy yet elegant old furniture, which suited him well. She had been right; it was a good size on the inside, just enough room for him and his stacks of research books and papers to be somewhat scattered around. Altogether, it built that sort of rustic studious aesthetic that she had always associated with him. "Very nice," she commented approvingly.

"It's certainly a few steps up from granny's," He agreed as he closed the door behind her.

"Yeah, quite a few," El agreed. She had only been inside of his childhood home once, and only for a minute or two at Jonathan's behest; he had been afraid that the old woman would wake up and catch him speaking to someone. "I see you still never learned to clean up after yourself, though." She teased with a passing glance at a sheet of notes on a patient with severe agoraphobia.

"Please, I was there when you rearranged your room, don't try to pretend I'm any worse than you are." He shot back good-naturedly as they sat on the couch.

"At least none of that stuff was important," she protested, gesturing to the stack of notes and diagnoses she had just looked at. "And is my mind playing tricks on me, or did your handwriting somehow get worse?"

"You hush," he said, settling into the cushion next to her, resting a hand on her knee when she leaned against the armrest and draped her legs over his lap, both of them acting as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and for them it was. "How was California? Did it meet your expectations?"

"Yeah, for a while, eventually, I just got bored. What about Gotham?"

"Fine. Better than Arlen anyway. A fresh start can be useful, I suppose." El nodded understandingly. Georgia really had been horrible to him. She supposed that she could attribute Gotham to his success and growth. She laid her head back against the armrest, thinking. "How did we let it get this long since we've talked?" She asked and rolled her head to the side to look at him. He'd let his head fall on the back of the couch and was staring at the ceiling as he shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied quietly and turned his head to the side without lifting it to look back at her. El found herself rememorizing everything about his face. He had changed so much. Again, it wasn't as though he had ever been bad to look at, she mused to herself. A little skinny, maybe, but now that his face had filled out to match his cheekbones and could afford to eat regularly, he _looked_ healthier. Even his hair was thicker, and maybe even a little bit darker, which made the blue of his eyes stand out shockingly. She could easily see how his maintained eye contact would be unsettling to someone who didn't know him as well as she did.

In fact, the only thing about him that had stayed entirely unchanged was the subtle darkness that sat just behind the surface of those piercing eyes, and she knew exactly why.

"Have you been able to keep him under control?" She couldn't help the soft question that came out. Over the silence of the apartment, her quiet voice sounded like a sin.

"For the most part," Jonathan replied equally quietly. "There have been some...incidents few and far between, but other than that fine." He blinked, and after a beat, he confessed, "He wants to talk to you."

Elianna's heart sunk to the floor, and she shook her head. The man sitting before her was her friend, but the Scarecrow terrified her. He was unpredictable and sadistic, and he turned Jonathan into something disturbing. "You know I wouldn't let him," he reassured El. "I won't let him slip around you again." El shivered involuntarily as she remembered what he meant.

_It had been during that time that she had visited him during college. She had only been in one class that semester, and the professor had given everyone a week off while the air conditioning duct in his classroom needed to be repaired. Jonathan had seemed stressed during their weekly phone call, and she had some money saved up, so she had taken advantage of this opportunity to fly to Gotham and visit Jonathan for a few days._

_As a rule, he didn't like surprises, but Elianna had been able to tell that he was relieved to see her. He had even hugged her as she arrived and seemed glad to have her staying with him in his campus apartment for a few days._

_On her first night there, they had taken a walk around campus after dark, and her suspicion that something was wrong was confirmed when his usual silence was strained, as were his short replies to her questions._

_"Maybe we should go back; you clearly aren't doing alright." She had suggested gently, laying her hand on his arm, to which he had nodded slowly and taken a shaky breath._

_"He's trying to get out," El had immediately known who he was talking about, even if she had never technically seen Scarecrow before. "Classes are really taking a lot out of me, and I don't know if I can-" There had been a brief moment of dissociation, and when Jonathan's eyes came back into focus, it wasn't him._

_**"I don't think we've met yet,"** Scarecrow had started. **"But you know I've been here longer than you have."** He finished smugly. The voice was Jonathan's but rougher, and his eyes were filled with a sudden life at the prospect of whatever Scarecrow had in mind for her._

_"Where is Jonathan?" She had barely been able to ask the question; something about the way he was looking at her made her horribly uneasy._

_**"Aw, what? You don't like me?"** Scarecrow had asked mockingly, stepping closer when she didn't answer. She was frozen to the spot. **"Do I scare you?"** He continued, and her continued silence was the exact answer he had been looking for. **"Good."**_

_Without any warning, after a moment of stillness, he had lunged for her, and somehow Elianna had managed to duck out of the way just in time and took off in the other direction with Scarecrow in close pursuit. She was looking for a place she might be able to hide, but her unfamiliarity with the campus had betrayed her, and just as she thought that she had lost him, he suddenly rounded the corner in front of her._

_Her scream had been cut short when he had pinned her against the nearby wall with his forearm across her throat. He looked like he was saying something to her, but she couldn't focus on what it was over the rushing blood in her ears. However, she could see with her fading vision Scarecrow using Jonathan's body to laugh at her. She was going fuzzy around the edges, and the only thought that she had been able to manage was that she would die there._

_Just as the last of her vision was beginning to fade and her lungs were screaming for air, the horrible grin had vanished, and she could see the difference as Jonathan had regained control with a panicked look on his face. The next thing El knew, he was helping her off the ground; she must have fallen when he removed his arm from her neck. Despite the knowledge that Scarecrow was gone, she had pulled herself out of his grip, opting to use the wall for support instead. The back of her head ached, and she had coughed hard, still struggling for breath and rubbing the growing bruise on her neck._

_She had never seen anyone look so terrified and apologetic as Jonathan's mouth silently opened and closed, fumbling for words. It wasn't until his eyes fell to her throat that he stilled, sucking in a deep breath. The traces of tears in his eyes told El everything that she needed to know, and without another second of hesitation, she had thrown her arms around him in a tight embrace. She could remember how he had squeezed her back, and they stood there like that for a few minutes, both trembling from the close call. Finally, they had walked back to his apartment in silence and hadn't even mentioned it since._

Until now.

El took a deep breath before finally asking, "Can you promise me that you have him under control?" He nodded silently in response.

"Never again, El. I promise." He added a few seconds later. His answer seemed to satisfy the redhead, and she let herself relax again.

They stayed like that for a few more hours, sometimes talking and sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. When she left, Elianna managed to coax another hug out of him on her way out the door and stretched up to kiss his cheek, not an unusual thing for her to do, but he blushed faintly just like he always did at the affection. She smiled to herself on her way back to her car. He really wasn't that different from the timid boy she had taken under her wing all those years ago, a soothing thought to send her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! We got some backstory in this chapter. Plus, I couldn't help pulling Harley in. I just love her because I'm a basic bitch. I confess I don't plan out these chapters too far beforehand, so I don't really know if she'll end up being important or not. Stay tuned for the next chapter; I get the feeling it's gonna be good ;)


	4. The Zombies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this short chapter, El finally meets Victor Zsasz in a high stakes session. She perceives that she may be in danger in the near future.

Elianna spent all of her free time between other patients that week studying the file on Victor Zsasz. The day of found her doing the same before the afternoon, she was scheduled to one of the secure rooms on the third floor.

It was...disturbing, to say the least.

Apparently, this wasn't the first time that he had been incarcerated at Arkham. According to the file, he had escaped at least three times, and each time had managed to kill at least two women before they even realized that he was gone, and four by the time that he had been brought into custody, which Elianna found profoundly unsettling. There were pictures of the murdered women, which were positively gruesome. She wasn't exactly looking forward to being locked in a room with the man, guards or not. The way each of the victims was posed at the scene gave her chills.

On the other hand, she found herself anticipating the session, in a perverse sort of way that even she didn't quite understand. This would be her first appointment with someone criminally insane, the draw of which had had a hand in pulling her to Arkham in the first place. However, her fear helped to remind her where the edge of her professional fascination should be. She resolved to be smart in approaching the issue; she would ask for the two guards assigned to her to be in the room with her and request a third to be watching on the other side of the glass. This would give her ample opportunity to flee the room if need be.

A glance at the time, and Elianna realized that it was time to make her way to the third floor and meet her guards before the session. She gathered everything she would need—the file, her preliminary notes, a legal pad, a voice recorder, and her favorite pen—and left her office, going up a flight of stairs and down a clinical looking hallway to where she needed to be. The two guards she had been assigned were already there waiting.

"Good afternoon, I'm Doctor Montgomery," She introduced herself and shook each of their hands. "Is there a way we can get one more of you? I would like the two of you with me and someone else waiting here if that's possible, as well as for all future sessions with him." She looked through the one-way glass and caught her first in-person glimpse of Mr. Zsasz. He was bald, and she could see the scars on his neck above the collar of his uniform. His hands were cuffed to his chair behind his back.

The taller of the two guards nodded at her request and instructed them to wait while he went to retrieve someone else, and was back with a third man in a few short minutes.

The original two entered the room with El, and the heavy door automatically locked when it shut. Bracing herself mentally, she sat at the chair opposite the table from Zsasz at the center of the room.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Zsasz," She began in a professional voice as she recovered her notepad, recording device, and pen from her case. "My name is Doctor Montgomery. It's nice to meet you." Zsasz lifted his gaze from the table to her face and smiled at her as they made eye contact. It wasn't a threatening or malicious smile, but she fought away the chill in her spine nonetheless.

"So formal, doctor," his voice was higher than she expected and almost had a softness to it. The sound of it gave El a feeling akin to something slimy being dropped down the back of her shirt. "Call me Victor."

"If that's what you want," El nodded, doing a bang-up job of keeping her discomfort and morbid curiosity hidden and making a quick note. "I understand that this isn't your first time in Arkham, Victor."

"Oh, no. I suppose you could say that this is my home away from home." His cadence as he spoke made it sound as though he had rehearsed this interaction.

"I see. If that's the case, may I ask why you bother to escape so often?" Only then did the smile that he had maintained thus far become sinister.

"Sometimes...I just need the mark." El could tell by the reverence in his voice that The Mark was something very sacred to him.

"I see," she scribbled another note. "I assume that you're referring to your tally marks." She gestured with the end of her pen toward the stretch of scarred skin that she could see. Zsasz nodded slowly, deliberately, and leaned forward across the table, supported by his cuffed wrists.

"Exactly right, Doctor. One for every zombie gone." He explained slowly, unblinking. El got the feeling that he was profiling her just as much as she was him. Out of her periphery, she noticed her escorts shuffle closer, and she reminded herself that she was relatively safe.

"Zombies?" She inquired, making a note before returning eye contact. She couldn't show him fear. "Would you mind elaborating on that for me?"

"Yes, of course." He chuckled, seeming to stare into her soul. Had he blinked since they had begun talking? She couldn't remember. "Yes, yes, the zombies. All you people on the outside that shuffle through life—like zombies—, still believing that any of us matter in the grand scheme of life." The scarred man sighed and leaned back against his chair, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably, and his cuffs clinked against the metal chair. Good. "I pity you people. So, I liberate you." The joy in his voice as he imagines the "liberation" process is chilling. 

"I see," Elianna managed after a beat and quickly scribbled one last note on her pad. She could sense that she made a mistake by asking about liberation; it was unlikely that they could make any progress today, and begrudgingly decided to cut their session very short. "I'm afraid that we're going to have to stop here for the day, Victor." She wrote down the time as she spoke.

"Aw, so soon, doctor?" He asked in a facsimile of disappointment with his head tipped to one side as El secured her notes and pen back in her briefcase.

"Unfortunately, so, yes," she returned her attention to him as she stood. "But thank you very much for speaking with me today, Victor. I look forward to our next meeting." El nodded to him and made for the door, turning her back on Zsasz.

"As do I, Doctor Montgomery," the scarred man called after her, and she safely made a face as her back was turned. Once the door was safely closed behind her, she straightened her blouse as though his demeanor had wrinkled it.

"Not bad for your first session with that one," the tallest of the guards reassured her. "That's about as long as most people can take of that creep usually, but never on their first assignment with him." That knowledge made Elianna relax a bit, regaining confidence in her ability to do her job.

"Good," she sighed, looking up at him. "Maybe I can start to make some progress then." El allowed herself a little sigh of relief. "Well, thank you two very much for coming in with me, and you for overseeing," she nodded to each of the guards, respectively. "Enjoy the rest of your day, gentlemen, thank you," she finished and headed back to her office, her mind swirling with various emotions and thoughts.

Once there, she plugged all of her notes into the computer for backup records and wrote a blurb of her thoughts on her note page before adding it to Zsasz's file and slipping it safely into her file cabinet.

Her main source of concern was his seemingly efficient means of escape that the asylum hadn't managed to figure out somehow. In all honestly, there was essentially nothing to stand between them if he decided that she needed to be "liberated." That was a troubling thought.

Shaking her head, Elianna forced these thoughts out of her head. There was nothing during her interaction to give her reason to believe that she was in any danger, for that night at least. All she needed to distance herself from the current problem was to go home and having filled out her paperwork as she went, she was free to do so.

She gathered everything she needed into her purse, taking an extra moment to double-check that everything in her office was in its place before leaving for the day. She punched out on the machine outside her door and sent Jonathan a goodbye text as she made her way downstairs and to her car.

By the time she made it home, she was so exhausted from her session with Zsasz, regardless of how short, that it was all she could do to make it into a quick shower before collapsing on her bed. Mental fortitude took a great deal of strength, and she couldn't quite shake the fear of Zsasz suddenly appearing behind her.

The only good thing about the draining capabilities of fear was that she would sleep soundly that night, and sleep soundly she did with hardly a second thought to the day's events, save for a few strange dreams.


	5. Liberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a deadly near-miss in her second session with Zsasz, El is confronted by a horribly familiar face outside of her apartment, and is saved by a mysterious figure dressed in all black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TW for mention of suicidal thoughts in Zsasz's backstory (which is the official canon for the character), blood, stalking, assault, and explicit language. To be honest, I almost feel bad choosing Victor for the primary antagonistic role in these chapters. I just loved him in Gotham ever since season one. But he fits very well to help the inciting action, and his backstory provides that good drama that I love to write, and his VERY brief appearance in Batman Begins gave me the perfect opportunity to pull off this idea. That being said, this is my favorite chapter that I have written thus far, and I'm eager for any feedback.
> 
> I will leave a quick summary in the notes at the end of the chapter for any readers who want to avoid the trigger warning.

When her alarm sounded on the morning after her weekend, Elianna was under no circumstances ready to wake up. Vaguely ominous dreams had plagued her for the third night in a row, and although she couldn't recall a single detail, they had left a looming sense of foreboding hanging over her head.

Unhungry, she decided to skip breakfast and took advantage of the extra time that the decision bought her after getting ready to pick up a coffee from the shop down the street from her apartment on her way to work.

The uneasy feeling redoubled as she parked in her spot and shut off the car. "Something bad is going to happen today," she said aloud to herself. "But at least I can be ready for it."

She picked up her week's schedule from the front desk, and one glance over it told her exactly where the trouble would come from. Her first session of the day was with Zsasz, right in the morning. She sighed when she saw it and shook her head, thanking the receptionist begrudgingly, and made her way up to her office.

Upon arriving, El retrieved her notes from the other day to look over them and compare them to the pre-existing information in Zsasz's file. A knock on the door caught her attention, and she looked up at it, lifting herself out of her seat with a sigh. Opening the door, she found Jonathan on the other side and let herself relax.

"Good morning, love, come on in," she welcomed distractedly and stepped aside to let him in. Looking at his face, he seemed as tired as she felt. "You look terrible, Jonathan, did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not much," he admitted as she returned to her seat, and he settled into the guest seat opposite her. He cast a weary look around her still bare office. "Knowing you, I thought you would have decorated a little more already."

"Hm?" El asked distractedly, looking back up from her notes. "Oh, yeah, I just haven't thought about it much, I guess." She looked around at the naked walls for herself. "Although now that I am, I suppose I'll bring some stuff tomorrow. Care to help me?" She leaned her weight upon her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on the lattice of her fingers.

"Do I have a choice?" He cocked an eyebrow, to which El smiled in response, absentmindedly noticing once again the way the light would catch in his eyes with the slightest shift of his head.

"Of course you do, but if you loved me, you would anyway." She gave a wide, innocent smile and blinked sweetly at him, earning an eye roll and a tiny smile in response.

"Oh, and who says that I do?" he challenged.

"Well, there's me, of course," El began, counting off on her fingers, "and the fact that you made extra sure that the warden would read my application so that I would have to come here and work with you. So there you have two pretty solid sources, but I'm sure that I could think of more if that isn't enough."

"Alright, alright, you've got me, you win," he replied tiredly, raising his hand for her to stop, to which Elianna chuckled softly, before finding her attention back on Zsasz's file. "What are you so distracted by?"

"Ugh, just my first session this morning." She sighed, shaking her head and beginning to gather everything she would need into her briefcase; she had fifteen minutes, and she liked to be early to things. "Have you ever worked with Victor Zsasz?"El ashed her friend as she stood, to which he shook his head and stood with her. "Well, wish me luck and hope that I don't get killed next time he decides to escape." She opened the door for Jonathan to leave first and followed him into the hallway.

"Well, I don't have any appointments scheduled until this afternoon. Want some company?"

"Please." The pair started down the hallway to the stairs. "So how's...our mutual friend? Is he the reason you didn't sleep well?" El inquired, looking to change the subject.

"Mostly. I also had some paperwork to finish before the weekend was over, and that took a while." They chatted about Jonathan's disorganized work habits as they followed the stairwell to the third floor.

Waiting for them were the same three guards from the day before. Once again, one posted himself at the glass—now joined by Jonathan—and the original two accompanied Elianna inside.

"Good morning, Victor. Sleep well?" She asked politely as she took her seat and once again removed her notepad and pen from her briefcase along with her trusty voice recorder.

"Like a rock, doctor. That's the upside of a padded room; you can get comfortable anywhere." Oh, that voice. Once again, El found herself fighting off a shiver.

"Why don't we pick up where we left off a few days ago?" El suggested amicably and made a small note when she didn't receive an answer. "How about you tell me what made you begin liberating people?" Immediately, Zsasz's mood shifted; he clearly loved to talk about himself. Narcissistic??? El scribbled in her notes as he began to speak.

"One might say that I had it all," he mused. Oh, dear, thought Elianna, he's rehearsed this too. "Wealth. Family." The word fell to the table and dripped with sarcasm. "Until one fateful day, my dear, sainted parents died in a boating accident. Consumed with grief, I soon gambled all that wealth away, and made my solemn way to Gotham Bridge." The lilting of his voice reminded El of a dramatic narration over a soap opera. "As I prepared for the plunge, I was confronted by a homeless gentleman with a knife, who demanded I give him all of my money. Of course, I had none left, but he simply wouldn't believe me. A struggle ensued, and I ended up with the knife." The memory makes Zsasz smile dreamily. "I stared that man in the eyes and saw the meaninglessness of life. The desperation, the hatred, and the hardship that I felt in myself, and I realized something...significant: it's all for nothing. You could say, in a way, I owe my existence to that man. With that first kill, I became what I am today."

"I see. May I ask you a question, Victor?" El looked up from the diligent notes she had been taking during his story.

"Isn't that what you're here for, doctor?"

"Well, your work liberating people gives you a purpose of sorts, doesn't it?" Zsasz remained silent, but his eyes narrowed, and his smile faltered slightly. "To your mind, it gives your life meaning. In which case, life can't be meaningless. In fact, I could argue that my purpose is to tell you this now, couldn't I?" She hadn't meant to get philosophical, yet there she was anyway.

"Very well spoken, Doctor Montgomery," the criminal's wide grin picked back up, and something in his voice had changed. Once again, the feeling of impending danger spiked, and El rose to her feet slowly in preparation to make for the door. "However, if that's the case, then that would mean that your purpose has been served, wouldn't it?" Suddenly, Zsasz lunged over the table, cuffs flung to the floor, and El heard one of the guards shout 'he's got a knife!' and on instinct, her arm flew up to cover her face as she stumbled backward. A slicing pain rippled through her forearm near her elbow before the guards had a chance to catch him, and at the moment, she found herself stupidly upset about her now ruined yellow shirt before kicking herself mentally. That isn't even close to important right now!

Forcing herself back to the situation at hand, Elianna fumbled to open the door behind her as her escorts surged forward to subdue the enraged Victor Zsasz. An alarm suddenly blared through the asylum when the outside guard pressed the emergency button beside the door, the sudden noise making Elianna flinch hard.

When she finally managed to wrench the door into swinging open towards her, El practically fell through it, and Jonathan was already there half supporting and half dragging her into the hallway as the third guard rushed past them into the room to help his peers. "What the hell happened?" She demanded, defensively angry. "Why weren't his damn cuffs secured?" El felt herself trembling as her mind raced, gradually realizing that she had been in danger from the second she entered the room. Was it his sadistic enjoyment of suspense, or his desire to talk about himself that had kept her safe for that long?

"I don't know, whoever brought him in must be helping him," Jonathan explained breathlessly, raising the redhead's arm to look at the gash. "This looks bad, come with me," he did a good job of hiding the distress in his voice for his friend's sake but kept a firm grip around her shoulders as he escorted her to the infirmary.

As soon as they walked in, a nurse was there to greet them, having been informed of the situation.

"Is it bad?" El asked the nurse, who shook her head.

"It's a shallow cut, nothing to worry over. I'm going to clean and bandage it, and you should be good to go."

"He went straight for your throat." Jonathan recounted. "If you hadn't thrown your arm up so quickly-" he shook his head, arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't want to think about it," El closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "At least we know I have good reflexes," she added quietly in an attempt to lighten the mood and earned a smile from the nurse as she began wrapping a bandage around the wound. When she finished, she handed El a spare roll.

"You'll want to take this one off before you shower and rewrap it afterward to be safe, but it should be alright in a few days."

"He'll be assigned a different doctor by tomorrow," Jonathan commented as El stood, and she looked at him sharply.

"What? No!" she exclaimed, her adrenaline still pumping, and Jonathan looked at her as though she should be admitted. "I want to keep working with him; I can't just let my first major case go like that!"

"Absolutely not," he argued firmly, keeping his voice steady.

"We can have extra security next time, and have them double-check the-"

"No!" El stopped in surprise. He had never snapped at her like that before. He sighed exasperatedly. "Look, it isn't up to me, the administration won't reassign you to his case, but even if it were, there's not a chance that I'd let you back into a room with him." El stared him down defiantly, but upon seeing his resolve, she gave in.

"Fine." She conceded begrudgingly. "I'll just find another way to prove myself." Jonathan nodded in response.

"That's much better, and you will. Now come on, you'll have to make a statement and fill out a report." El nodded, and they made for the warden's office together. Unfortunately, the pair needed to pass through the corridor in which the session had been held. It seemed that Zsasz had put up quite a fight; he had only then been successfully subdued and was being escorted back to his cell surrounded by guards (several of whom looked worse for wear) with three pairs of cuffs securing his wrists. A small crowd had gathered in the hall of people curious about the disturbance, forcing Elianna and Jonathan to stop as the twisted parade passed.

Zsasz caught sight of Elianna as he was marched through and grinned at her, forever unblinking. "Leave your door unlocked for me." He taunted, earning a hard shove from the guard nearest to him. Jonathan stared the criminal down and put his arm around El's shoulders protectively, pushing through the crowd and pulling her back into motion.

"You're not going home." His tone of voice left no room for protest.

"Fine, but I need to get some things first."

"Then we'll take tomorrow off and buy you whatever you need, but you can't go back to your apartment for a while."

"Jesus, fine," El said exasperatedly. "When did you get so protective anyway? You've never been like this before."

"When the only person I give a damn about was almost killed in front of me for the second time, now stop arguing and just keep walking." Despite her displeasure of being chastized, El smiled to herself. She had gotten him to admit it openly when she wasn't even trying. That in itself registered as a small victory in her mind.

Without another word, she did her best to match her pace to his much longer legs, clinging to his forearm in an attempt not to fall behind.

"Welcome to Gotham," she muttered to herself and shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Gotham badly needed saving from itself; that much was clear to her. Only one question remained: who was going to do it?

.xXx.

Despite Jonathan's insistence that she was to drive straight to his apartment when they left work, Elianna made an executive decision to go and get what she needed from her place first; she couldn't let Jonathan buy her all new things when she could just get what she needed in ten minutes. She was sure that Zsasz would be heavily guarded that night, and she would call Jonathan while she packed to justify her actions.

"Jonathan? Don't be angry; I'm just packing a few things, I promise I'll be in and out." There was an angry sigh in her receiver as she unlocked the door.

"Check every room first." He instructed, knowing that he couldn't convince his friend to get right back in her car.

"Yes, boss," she replied sarcastically but did so anyway, thoroughly checking every nook and cranny. "All clear, everything is fine."

"Stay on the phone while you pack, put me on speaker."

They stayed on the phone, and in just a few minutes, she had everything she needed to stay with Jonathan for a week and was locking her front door as she left. _See, love? Everything is fine._

"I'm on my way to the car now. I'll be there soon." She assured Jonathan. Satisfied that everything had gone smoothly with no further need of his supervision, he wished her a safe drive there before they hung up.

Once outside, she held her pepper spray firmly in one hand and her car keys in the other. It was dark out now, and even in the chaos of Gotham, the darkness drew out more crazies than the daytime. Once her keys were securely in her right hand, she returned her attention forward, and what she saw made her blood run cold.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," she breathed to herself and ducked behind a car. What she had seen was the distinct and unmistakable figure of Victor Zsasz turning from the sidewalk and into the parking lot, moving directly toward her building. A hundred questions hurtled through her brain: How had he escaped so quickly? Was his escape route in his cell somehow? How could he have gotten away from Arkham without being spotted? How had he learned where she lived? How many people were helping him on the inside, and who were they?

It was too late for her to do anything about it now, but God help her, she would track down whoever was responsible for this monumental screw up first thing in the morning, and she would make them sorry. But first, she needed to focus on avoiding the unthinkable.

Swallowing hard, she did her best to shove down her terror and quiet her breathing as she peeked up through the windows of the car she had hidden behind to track Zsasz's progress. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, and for some reason, all she could think of was that goddamned Poe story. At that moment, she abandoned her atheism and begged desperately to God or anyone listening that he couldn't hear the wet thumping of her heart over the echoing sound of his careless footsteps.

_Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! —no, no! They heard!—They suspected!—They knew! Again! Hark! Louder!_

_Louder!_

_Louder!_

_Louder!_

As the solitary figure steadily approached the alligator green sedan that Elianna had found herself crouched behind, she slowly crept around toward the front of the car opposite him so as not to be seen. He passed the rear bumper close enough that she could hear him humming contentedly and breathing in the "fresh" Gotham air as though he were on a simple, pleasant stroll, and not on his way to construct his most recent gruesome crime scene.

_I should have listened to Jonathan._

When El finally made it to the opposite side of the car, and Zsasz seemed a safe enough distance away, her heart leaped at the thought that she was in the clear—freedom! Safety!—and she was just standing up to break for her car, only a little further down the row, when her bag— _my fucking duffle bag!_ —swung off of her shoulder and down her arm, slamming hard into that ghastly green car.

In slow motion, she watched the contact, unable to move to stop it, and jumped as the car alarm went off. Her head snapped back up just in time to see Zsasz spin around to observe the sudden disturbance. The fear rolling off of El was palpable as she watched in real-time Victor's recognition of her face, his target, his victim, his newest _zombie._ His bald head turned almost skeletal as his grin built slowly, steadily transforming into the most horrifying thing that Elianna had ever seen.

"Doctor Montgomery! Is this a bad time?" He had already begun strolling toward her, to which El began walking backward shakily. "I'd like very much to discuss my philosophy with you." The gash on her arm was throbbing, a reminder that she hadn't escaped her last encounter with Zsasz unscathed. And here she had no guards.

"You see, since you obviously didn't meet your death in that dismal room," here he paused to laugh, "the universe is off balance!" He declared grandiosely, spreading his arms wide and tipping his head back as he continued. "How can things function properly if I allow a zombie to escape her fate?" His words filled El with heavy dread, rendering her muscles useless as he came closer and closer despite the screaming need to move, to do something!

She couldn't help taking a mental picture of the moment as he continued steadily toward her. The tableau was almost cinematic: the dingy, yellow street lamp between them hummed loudly as it strained to stay on, and the resulting shadows were starkly black against the pavement, so sharp it was as though they had been stenciled on the ground; to say nothing of the man—the beast—that came toward her, almost Lovecraftian.

Thin, and stretched up tall compared to her small frame, the skin stretched tight against the sharp bones of the face beneath it, the bald head and teeth prominently displayed in a deranged grin reflecting the sickly yellow light, reminding El of how horribly insane the creature approaching her really was. Not to mention the scars— _oh God, the scars!_

The slim, raised tallies that marred his skin seemed ironically countless, and they almost glowed in the light of the bright moon and the stale light from the street lamp, and those eyes just continued to stare, as unblinking as ever.

Elianna processed all of this at once and was suddenly struck with the realization that if she didn't act right then, she would be reduced to nothing but another of those haunting, alien marks; a trophy.

The thought hit her hard enough to release her from her stupor— _just in time!_ —and raise her arm, releasing a stream of pepper spray into what was hopefully the direction of those too-big eyes as she turned on her heel and sprinted as fast as she could toward her car.

The wild laughter from behind her told her instantly that she had fully missed her target, and she pushed herself faster. Something struck her in the back of the knee, and she didn't have time to wonder what it was as her head hit the ground hard, her hands scraping against the asphalt when she was sent sprawling. She groaned at the burning in her forehead, and something warm dripped down her face. If I can just get to my car, was her only thought as the pumping adrenaline took over, compelling her to start to her feet.

A cold hand wrapped around her ankle, and without thinking, she kicked out hard with her other foot. Something that felt like a nose cracked under her heel, accompanied by a sharp grunt of pain and the hand loosened, so she struck again, earning her a cry of agony and a free leg. Elianna scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, not bothering to look behind at the damage she had dealt, focusing all of her energy on stumbling to her car. Get to Jonathan's now.

Suddenly, a large, black mass swooped over her head, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground hard and another cry of pain from Zsasz. El risked a glance behind to see a figure shrouded in black yanking Zsasz to his feet, and that was good enough for her. She finally fumbled her way into her car. She didn't know who the hell that was, and she didn't care to know. She peeled out of the parking lot, wiping at the blood dripping into her eye.

She checked her reflection in the visor mirror at a stoplight to assess the damage. As was to be expected, she was bleeding profusely where her head had connected with the asphalt. She tried not to worry too much; head wounds always bleed more than seems necessary. Even so, looking at her reflection made her lightheaded, the sight of asphalt sticking in her skin, and her hair matted with blood. She slammed the visor shut, and when the light turned green, she drove as quickly as she could to Jonathan's apartment.

_I almost died twice today._

As soon as she parked, Elianna snatched up her bag from the passenger seat, and for reasons that she didn't quite understand, locked the car eight times before running into the building and then the elevator as fast as she could. Once inside, she pressed the button for her desired floor and then jammed the 'close door' button frantically, bouncing anxiously as it made its slow ascent— _can't they make these things any faster?_

As soon as the doors opened enough for her to slip through, she sprinted down the hallway, miraculously keeping from tumbling over on the way. She needed to get to Jonathan's door now, every second that passed inciting more paranoia of some fresh horror presenting itself.

By the time she made it to the right door (a ten second run from the elevator), there were tears in her eyes, and she knocked frantically, needing for him to open the door _right this damn second, Jonathan Crane!_

Luckily, he seemed to respond to the urgent knocking and flung open the door in seconds, the confusion written on his face quickly replaced by shock as he ushered her inside.

"Elianna, what the hell happened?"

"You were right," she breathed, shutting the door quickly behind her and locking it. "You were right. I-if I hadn't been on the way t-to the car already...." A tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek as she finally began to process what had happened.

"Okay, okay, come on," Jonathan took her bag and her purse from her and set them on the floor. "Bathroom, come with me." He led his still trembling friend into the bathroom and helped her onto the countertop to get a better look at her head, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Just don't let me die, okay?" Elianna hadn't even meant to speak, and nearly didn't recognize the meek voice as her own.

"Not a chance, just hold still," he replied as gently as he could, using a sterilized wipe from the first aid kit beneath his sink to carefully brush out the bits of asphalt from her bloodied flesh. Her eyes closed in pain when he moved on to cleaning off the mostly dried blood. "Okay, it isn't as big as it looks," he reassured her when he could finally see clearly; he was able to cover the source of the bleeding with a large bandaid. "There, you're okay." He concluded the treatment by gently dabbing antibacterial goop onto the divots left by the asphalt down her cheek.

She dropped her freshly clean forehead onto his shoulder when he finished. The light was so bright, and unsurprisingly, her head was killing her. _Oh my god, if I had hit much harder, it might have._

"El?" He asked, resting his hand on the back of her head, worried that she had fallen unconscious.

"Lights." Quickly catching on, he helped her off the counter and guided her back into the living room. She laid on the couch with her eyes shut tight as he went back into the bathroom and proceeded to make far more noise rattling about in the medicine cabinet than seemed necessary.

"You can have Tylenol." She opened her eyes and sat up to look at the two little pills offered to her in his palm.

"Tylenol? Are you f-?" El cut her off and forced a deep breath, taking the medicine from him. "It's better than nothing. Thank you." She didn't even wait for water before she took them.

Jonathan sat on the couch by her head and guided her back into a horizontal position, guiding her head gently onto his lap, knowing that she found the intimacy comforting (regardless of his general disdain for it), while she closed her eyes again.

"Don't fall asleep."

"I know."

After a minute, he turned on the television with the volume low and began to run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her, and El risked a look at the screen just in time to see Zsasz's mugshot on the news. The sight made her nauseous, and she squeezed her eyes shut again.

Almost immediately, she began to sweat. Her anxiety quickly rocketed almost out of control, and she felt as though she couldn't breathe as her chest tightened painfully. "C-can you feel yourself going into shock?" She asked meekly. She had meant it to come off as a joke, but unable to achieve that goal, she realized that it was a genuine concern.

"Deep breaths," Jonathan replied calmly. "Put your feet on the armrest; you need to elevate your legs." She did so without arguing, doing her best to keep her breathing deep and steady. "You know, you should consider yourself lucky, El."

The statement hit her hard enough to make her forget her anxiety immediately, and she took a long, shaky breath before sitting up, swinging her feet to the floor so that she was sitting next to him properly.

"How. Could this _possibly_. Be lucky?" She asked slowly, doing her best to remain calm. "I have been attacked, threatened, slashed, bandaged, stalked, and practically bled out _all today._ " She had started slowly but found herself steadily speaking faster and louder. "I think most people-no actually, everyone on Earth would not consider that lucky, except for you. So why _the hell are you smiling_ right now, Jonathan Crane? Do you think this is funny? I could have _died_ tonight!"

"Of course, I don't think it's funny that you were attacked again. I just forgot how entertaining it is when you get angry." For a moment, El stared at Jonathan, baffled by what he was saying, before hitting him with a throw pillow, to which he looked almost offended.

"It's not entertaining, you bastard. Not now, in this circumstance!" She swung the pillow at him again, and he jumped up, ducking out of the way when she threw it at him instead.

"No, El, look," he raised his hands in surrender, doing his best to backtrack and catching the next pillow that was flung at him. "You managed to escape Zsasz twice. Both times, on sheer dumb luck. Before today his mortality rate was 100%, so yes, that's what I call lucky-don't you dare throw that at me."

El froze her with her arm up, ready to hurl another pillow at his face. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. She reluctantly dropped the pillow back onto the couch, and he relaxed.

"Fine. But you're making dinner all week, and tomorrow you're going to find out who let him escape so that I can shatter their kneecaps. What?" She asked in response to the puzzled look on his face.

"Weren't you going into shock a minute ago? How are you fine right now?" He put the back of his hand on her forehead as though to check her temperature, to which she rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away.

"Through denial, all things are possible, love." She paused for a beat before adding, "if I say that out loud, do I stop being in denial?" More to herself than to him. Another pause and then, "can we have pancakes for dinner?"

Jonathan stared down at his friend, a little impressed by her sudden resolve, before conceding and walking toward the kitchen.

"As long as you make that hot chocolate that I like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TW Summary: During her second session with Victor Zsasz, Elianna says the wrong thing, accidentally sending him into a rage. Coincidentally, he had already been in cahoots with somebody (likely the guards who brought him into the interview room) and is already unrestrained. He attacks El with a hidden blade, and she narrowly escapes. He taunts her as he is escorted away, telling her to "leave her door unlocked," and Jonathan becomes adamant that she not bother going home and should instead go directly to his apartment for a few days. She stubbornly goes to her apartment after work to pack what she needs first. As she returns to her car, she is confronted by an already escaped Zsasz, and once again, is spared by the mercy of sheer dumb luck when a mysterious figure in black swoops in unexpectedly and gives her a chance to escape in her car. Upon arriving at Jonathan's, he treats a head wound that she sustained during the parking lot struggle and tells her that she should consider herself lucky, which she doesn't take kindly to. He can explain his reasoning and avoid too much of a blowout, after which Elianna seems to come to terms with what has happened far too quickly to ignore, which she explains as a result of denial.
> 
> Wow, this was a very intense chapter, and sooo fun to write. I think it's pretty obvious that I got a little carried away with the imagery during the parking lot, but I could see it so clearly in my head that it basically wrote itself. I tried to sprinkle in a touch of comedy near the end to make up for that middle part, so hopefully, it landed without feeling too hokey. I hope you liked it! And don't worry, they'll get back at Zsasz one way or another ;)


	6. Little Domesticisms

After dinner and finishing some paperwork that he had brought home, Jonathan sat at his desk for a while, thinking. Elianna had passed out on the couch a while ago (after he checked her for a concussion), curled up with a blanket wrapped tightly around her. From what he could tell, she wasn't sleeping well, but she was sleeping, and that was all that he cared about at that point. 

Given that El was quite literally the only person who had ever given a damn about him, there wasn't a lot that Jonathan wouldn't do for her, especially after everything she had already done for him. He wouldn't even be there to have made something of himself if it weren't for her. And damn if he was going to let some twisted nihilist get away with her attempted murder. Twice. 

**_What are we gonna do about it, Johnny?_ **

_I'm scheming if you'd shut up._

_**Care to bounce ideas off each other?** _

_If we ever went with any of your plans, we'd have been caught a long time ago, but I'll try to keep an open mind._

_**Sarcasm doesn't suit you.** _

Jonathan sighed to himself and ignored his alter. Of all the people that could have been rattling around up in his brain with him, it had to be Scarecrow.

**_I heard that._ **

There was only one thing he could think of, and it seemed like a pretty obvious solution to him. He happened to be in the perfect position to deal out ruthless and well-deserved revenge upon Victor Zsasz. Of course, El knew nothing of the situation. How would she react if she knew he was working with Carmine Falcone? He knew that he would have to tell her everything for her to fully understand the opportunity that he was dropping in her lap.

The process would be easy enough, he was a doctor at Arkham after all, and people experienced mental breaks there all the time. Hell, even old man Arkham himself had been admitted with the crazies. It would be fascinating to find out what a man like Victor Zsasz was afraid of all that aside. His own mortality, perhaps? _No, he plays off of it too much for that to be the source of his fear._ Maybe something more material. Thunderstorms, or scorpions, or even something as irrational as dolls. It was always the scariest ones who had the most mundane fears.

In Jonathan's mind, it was decided. Tomorrow, he would ask to be transferred onto Zsasz's case once he was readmitted. He had been one of Falcone's thugs, and although Zsasz didn't work for him anymore, Falcone always wanted to avoid any of his goons, past or present, serving any jail time. Zsasz would be transferred back into Arkham (come to think of it, this is almost exactly what happened every time Victor had been caught, only there had always been bodies before), and Jonathan would put himself on the case. It was almost too simple.

Satisfied with his plan, Jonathan resolved to get some sleep. Elianna woke up a bit when he lifted her off of the couch.

"What's...what are we doing?" She grumbled sleepily.

"That couch is definitely not for sleeping on; you'll be stiff in the morning." She nodded and shimmied her legs down until she was standing on her own before splitting off to the bathroom, mumbling about the apparently uncomfortable blouse she was wearing.

While Jonathan rummaged through his dresser, preparing for bed, Eve opened the closet door, raiding his clothes for a t-shirt rather than retrieving her bag from the living room; she knew he had some in there somewhere. Finally finding one— _I think gave him this in high school_ —she stripped down to her underwear and slid the shirt on before returning to the bedroom and tucking herself into bed. A minute later, the other side of the mattress dipped down as Jonathan settled in as well.

"How's your head?"

"Not great." She sighed. "It feels like a migraine, so if you have to ask me questions, please keep your voice down." She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest, reminding them both of the times when he had managed to sneak away from the Keeny house on bad nights.

"If it doesn't feel any better by tomorrow, then you're not going into work," Jonathan stated firmly, making sure to keep his voice quiet.

"M'kay mom," Eve mumbled mockingly and adjusted slightly, so her shoulder wasn't jabbing into his ribcage. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"Does teasing me make you feel better?"

"Maybe a little." Eve tilted her head up and planted an innocent peck on his jaw, the only spot she could reach without having to move too much. "Thank you for your sacrifice."

"Goodnight, Elianna."

"G'night, Jonathan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is definitely just filler, but I felt like the last chapter was A LOT, so I decided to sprinkle in some fluff. Besides, they're cuddling, how sweet. Plus, a tiny little peek into how Jonathan feels about all of this Zsasz business.


	7. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan reveals the guiding plot to Elianna in order to provide her with a means of revenge against Victor Zsasz. She agrees but struggles to come to terms with her own malice.

Elianna, generally speaking, was extremely stubborn by nature. As such, the more people told her that she couldn't do something, the more she resolved to do it. She had been like that for her entire life, and very rarely was she convinced to concede.

However, she no longer had any qualms about passing off the Zsasz case. The day before, she had been pretty insistent upon keeping Victor as a patient, but that had been before he had not only escaped what was supposed to be a very secure institution for the fourth time, but had also found out where she lived. Unless he had somehow already found out from whoever must have helped him after their first session. God, had he been planning that from the beginning? El thought back to what he had said when he had passed her and Jonathan in Arkham as he was being escorted back to his cell.

_"Leave your door unlocked for me."_

She shivered at the memory. In hindsight, she couldn't believe how stupid she had been to have still gone to her apartment after that. While she wasn't unintelligent, it was true Jonathan had always been the smarter one. But, _Jesus,_ that was the worst thing for her to have done in that situation. _I guess I'll blame that on being stubborn too._

She pondered all of this, still in bed next to a restfully sleeping Jonathan, hours before she even needed to be awake. After sleeping for only a few an hour or two herself, she had woken herself out of a nightmare and had been unable to fall back asleep despite how tired she felt. It seemed that all of her sleep lately had been cursed by restlessness.

Suddenly, she was struck by the memory of the strange, shadowy figure that had saved her life in the parking lot. What _was_ that thing? It had been man-sized and shaped, but she clearly saw pointed ears on top of the head in her memory. Even after being in Gotham for such a short period of time, El was acutely aware of the masked criminals that ran the streets. Still, in her tired haze and confusion surrounding the whole situation, she couldn't recall having heard of a man dressed as a...a dog? Some kind of bat, maybe? Either way, it seemed a very poorly made costume.

The fact that whoever it was had attacked Zsasz was somewhat comforting, she supposed. But the question remained, was this person malevolent and just happened to have a personal vendetta against Zsasz, or was he some sort of vigilante that no one had heard of yet? _Assuming this is a new development, I imagine we'll find out over the coming months._

In the meantime, El was plagued by the feeling that she was being watched, despite being several stories high in a relatively safe part of the city, not that anywhere in Gotham could truly be considered safe. 

Despite the knowledge that nobody could be watching, she shifted closer to Jonathan and cast a wary look around the room to identify the source of her discomfort, finally deciding that there was something about the window that made her uneasy. It seemed too dark outside, given that they were in a large city, but she knew better than to get up to close the curtains. She had seen enough horror movies to know that when she did, there would be a face pressed against the glass, watching her sleeplessness.

The image in her head of a person waiting on the ledge outside, waiting for her to fall back asleep scared her, even though she _knew_ it was impossible. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself not to think about it. _It's amazing the things almost being murdered will do to your brain._

Jonathan shifted in his sleep suddenly, effectively taking her mind off things for a few seconds. She could tell that he hadn't gotten enough sleep the previous few nights (she blamed Scarecrow) and made an effort hold still, hoping that she hadn't woken him up. After a few seconds, he settled back into his pillow. She sighed and allowed herself to relax as well. _I should try to get back to sleep before work._ She would be damned if she had to stay home, even after everything that had happened. She _needed_ the people she worked with to take her seriously. Going about a normal routine after almost dying twice seemed a good way to establish rank. Maybe stubborn and stupid, but what was the worst that could happen at that point?

All things considered, she felt surprisingly stable for someone who had had three near-death experiences in the past few years. Maybe there was something wrong with her that just hadn't manifested yet? Thinking about that possibility, she wouldn't be surprised. It might explain how she was finally on the verge of falling back asleep. 

Eventually, her exhaustion got the better of her. Jonathan's building had much better security than hers; surely, she would be fine to sleep those last few hours away...

.xXx.

Four hours later, El's phone alarm sounded, blaringly loud in the previously silent room, and she scrambled to turn it off while Jonathan rolled onto his stomach and groaned into his pillow.

"Why do you wake up so early?" His voice was muffled.

"It takes longer for me to get ready than you. It's nothing new. Go back to sleep." El yawned and patted the back of his head before standing up, stretching and cracking her back.

He seemed to take her advice, and his breathing evened out again as she retrieved her duffle bag from the living room and headed to the bathroom to get ready for work. She had just finished washing her face and brushing her teeth and was starting in on her makeup when Jonathan walked in, looking tired.

"I'm awake now." He yawned as he leaned back against the counter next to her and rubbed his hand down his face.

"I can see that. I'm sorry," El replied genuinely—if a bit distracted by her foundation.

"It's fine; I was starting to dream about Granny again," he dismissed; El nodded and continued her routine as he watched. 

"Can I help you?" She asked, slightly perturbed by the attention. He shrugged.

"There's nothing better to do at the moment. Besides, I want to find out how it's possible that you actually use all those brushes every day. It seems like overkill."

"They're all good for different things, now hush," El mumbled in response, trying not to let him distract her from her eyeliner. "You know, if you talked to more women, you might be able to see them put on their makeup, and maybe even naked sometimes." Now she was actively trying to get him to leave her alone; it was far too early not to be annoying about it, though. Sometimes she just couldn't resist embarrassing him.

"Don't give Scarecrow any ideas this early in the morning, or he's going to think about you like that all day, and I have to hear it," Jonathan said in mild disgust and shut his eyes in exasperation.

"Ooh, gross. Really?"

"Yeah. Breakfast?"

"No, thanks, love."

"You should eat."

"I should, but I'm not hungry, and you're distracting me. Thank you, though," she replied more forcefully. He shrugged again and meandered toward the kitchen. "Tell him to behave!" She called after him.

No longer distracted, El finished up and picked an outfit for the day, getting dressed quickly and walked out to the kitchen where Jonathan had already dressed and was making his way through a bagel while glancing over the newspaper. "They didn't know your name. Would you mind if I started calling you 'lucky woman?'"

"Sure! Would you mind if I start 'giving Scarecrow ideas' every morning?"

"Still not a morning person, I see."

"Nope." El stole a quick sip of his coffee before grabbing her purse. "Carpool?"

Jonathan agreed, finished his bagel and coffee, and they walked to his car. In a few minutes were on the road sharing comfortable silence. El found herself reminded once again of the stranger that had saved her the night before. She decided to ask Jonathan about it; maybe _he'll know more than I do._

Then again, what if he thought she was crazy? A man dressed up like...oh, who could tell? What if it had been an adrenaline-fuelled hallucination? Jonathan wouldn't turn her in, would he? 

Of course not. The personality with whom he shared a mind was violent and murderous and had convinced him to kill his great grandmother—although, the old crone had it coming. _Where the hell did that thought come from? That's a horrible thing to think._

Either way, compared to that, seeing a man dressed as a...as something while fighting crime seemed perfectly sane, especially in Gotham. Not to mention the fact that whoever it was had definitely tackled Zsasz. It had to be real, or she wouldn't be sitting there in the car.

"Jonathan?"

"Mm?" He responded right as they pulled up to Arkham. _Damn,_ she had thought for too long; she didn't feel comfortable talking about this where other people might hear. Jonathan might not think she was crazy, but someone else might.

"Remind me to talk to you about something later," she conceded with a sigh and waited for him to park so that she could get out of the car. He caught up to her a second later.

"Why not now?"

"Because _you_ already know I'm not crazy." He looked at her pointedly but didn't say anything for a moment.

"Do I?"

"Oh, shut up," she smiled and elbowed him gently as they walked inside. Jonathan allowed himself a soft smile.

"I have to stop by my office for a minute, but then I'll meet back up with you in your office before your first appointment. I have to talk to you about something." El nodded. 

"See you in a few minutes, love." She walked herself to her office, stupidly worried now that she was alone. She knew that she relatively safe with security everywhere, but even so, she pulled on the door after it closed to ensure that it was locked. _Paranoid_. Zsasz wasn't even there. She had seen in Jonathan's newspaper in the kitchen that Victor was facing trial that day. 

Not to mention whatever it was that Jonathan had to talk to her about. Knowing him, El didn't even want to try to guess what that discussion would be like.

She killed a few minutes organizing paperwork that she had allowed to pile up, realizing that she would need to stay late to file that night and reviewing her schedule. Her first session wasn't for a few hours yet, which gave her time to stave off the fear that another of her patients would attack her. _I just got off to a bad start. A really, really, really, really bad start._

A knock on the door made her jump and then roll her eyes at herself. "Who is it?" _Seriously? Nobody that would knock wants to kill you, El._

"Three guesses who." Came Jonathan's response, and she pressed the button to open the door for him. "I'm gonna have to stay a bit late tonight." He informed her as he walked in.

"That's alright, me too." 

"Well, that works out." He sighed, pausing in the middle of the room for a moment. "I also need to leave for a while right now, but first, there's a lot that I need to explain to you, and it can't wait, so I need you to listen." What?

"O-okay." She nodded slowly. "What's up?" She leaned back in her seat as Jonathan came around and leaned back against the desk in front of her, setting his briefcase next to him. 

"Alright, there really isn't a good way to ease you into this given the time crunch, so I'm just going to tell you all at once, okay?" Still confused, El nodded again. "First of all, I've been conducting experiments on patients here, research not sanctioned by the asylum." He paused for a beat, giving her a chance to think about the confession. "A while ago, I perfected a recipe for what I call a 'fear toxin.' In short, it causes the subject to hallucinate whatever they fear most, which allows me to study the effect of fear on the human mind."

"What the fuck?" The question escaped El quietly as she closed her eyes in an attempt to help herself process the information that her friend was offering up out of the blue.

"I know, but I'm not finished yet, okay? Stay with me." El found herself nodding on reflex. "The key ingredient that I need for each version comes in from overseas, it's shipped here, and I've been working with Carmine Falcone, the mob boss, to bring it in."

"Wh-what does this have to do with me? Why are you telling me this?" El asked in a panic, shaking her head, her eyes still shut. She couldn't believe what she was hearing or how easily Jonathan said it. He was lucky that the security system was video only, no audio. Or maybe she was unlucky; it all depended on what his motivations were for sharing this information.

"Because Zsasz used to work for Falcone, but Falcone won't risk Zsasz going to prison and leaking the secrets of the organization; as long as he's here, regulations dictate that he has to be kept relatively comfortable and isolated, so he has no reason to leak information. I'm going right now to testify on his mental state so that he gets admitted back here."

"Stop-stop talking for a second, hold on." Elianna lifted a hand and tried her best to control her breathing. Jonathan did as she asked and waited while she began to gather her thoughts. "Just please, _please_ tell me that you aren't the one who's been helping him escape." She demanded quietly, finally opening her eyes but staring at the carpet. She couldn't bring herself to look at him until she knew that he wasn't the one to put her life in danger. She had never before felt unsafe around Jonathan. Scarecrow, yes, but never Jonathan, but this sudden dump of information had her suddenly questioning everything that she knew.

She should never have come back to the east coast. She should have stayed bored in California and just contented herself with their long-distance friendship.

Jonathan lifted off the desk and crouched down in front of her, making her look at him, however reluctantly. "Listen to me, El; I know that I've done a lot of horrible things, okay? I can admit that. But one thing that I could never do is put you in danger on purpose." In a calm voice, he spoke slowly, and against her better judgment, Elianna found herself believing him. She nodded.

"Okay," she said quietly. "Alright, I trust you, but I still don't understand why you're telling me any of this." Her mind was still racing to make sense of anything that he had said in the last few minutes, although she began to realize that she shouldn't really have been surprised. From the second that she had found out about Scarecrow, El had known that there was something—some _one_ inside him that was more than capable of horrific things.

She found herself wondering, not for the first time, how Jonathan would have ended up if Scarecrow had never come along. Granny Keeny should have been the only warning that she needed to stay away from Jonathan, starting years ago.

Then again, if she had managed to look past and even help him cover-up the "accident," the strange circumstances of the old woman's death (or so they had passed it off), then she could find a way to look past this. There had to have been a reason he was telling her any of this, besides making her an accomplice. There _needed_ to be. 

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "Tell me."

"If I'm going to get Zsasz back here anyway, then I can get him transferred to my caseload, which puts us in the perfect position to make him regret coming after you."

"Whoa, hold on," El lifted her hand again to interrupt him. She almost felt bad for interjecting so often, each time having to remind herself that she wasn't in the wrong this time. "I'm assuming that you mean you would use this 'fear toxin' on him? In which case, he could have a full metal break, and then they would have to investigate you, so won't they be able to trace it back to us?" Jonathan shook his head.

"They won't find anything. I already have it all figured out. It's an original formula, if they examine him, they may find severely elevated stress levels, but unfortunately, that kind of break happens to people all the time in here; as long as he's alive, anyone looking into Zsasz won't bother to test for any externally administered chemicals."

"I-" El found herself at a loss for words by how quickly Jonathan had worked this out. "F-fine, just...give me another minute." She stood from her office chair and began to pace, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, trapped in by the sudden wave of disturbing new information.

She couldn't deny that the thought of mercilessly dealing revenge upon the man who thought that he could get away with killing her sounded incredibly satisfying. It was a natural desire to exact one's pound of flesh, and even before her involvement Victor Zsasz was a murderer. A deranged serial killer that had killed how many women before she had even thought of moving to Gotham?

Elianna began to realize that she could remain in denial about what had happened to her for as long as she wanted, but she would never feel truly safe again until something was done about him.

She knew it was technically wrong, but she wanted Victor Zsasz to feel the terror that she did when she pictured his face— _Lovecraftian, skeletal, bathed in yellow light_ —and if Jonathan's toxin could do the job, then she wanted to do it.

Before her logical mind had time to talk her out of her resolve, she stopped pacing and looked at Jonathan. He looked back expectantly, sitting on the edge of her desk again. With an air of finality, she nodded. "Let's do it."

"Good." He checked his watch and stood, taking his briefcase. "I need to leave now, but I'll be back in a few hours. Just go about your day like normal, and we can talk semantics tonight." El nodded in response in a stupor over everything that had happened in only two short days. She wasn't even aware enough to be surprised when Jonathan kissed her head as he left her office, instead returning trance-like to her seat and wondering just the wrong side of too late, _did I make the right decision?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, uh, this chapter set in motion a lot of things really quickly. Sorry if it feels clunky, but our boy is a man of action (I mean not...not physically), and we're very rapidly getting into the meat of the story. I hope you're as excited as I am to see what happens next.


	8. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you ask, I don't even know what's going on with the time period here, okay? Just don't worry about it; it'll help if you don't think about it too hard and just nod at the convenience of modern technology. It's more fun if some things are left up to your imagination anyway.
> 
> Ideally, though, just imagine that this takes place, not in the actual year that Batman Begins came out, but closer to now because there's something that I'm putting in the prequel where they will also need an old cell phone, so please just bear with me okay?

Minutes after Jonathan left, Elianna was still staring at the wall, unable to think about anything other than the sudden and jarring conversation. She couldn't help but feel astounded that she had even agreed to what he was suggesting. _Why would I do that?_ If she hadn't accepted his proposal, would he have gone along with the plan on his own? And what would have become of had she refused?

Her clock glared at her from its place mounted on the wall, reminding her that she didn't even have the distraction of a session to rush to. _Damn it._ Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork...

Finally forcing herself into action, El gathered all of her files and situated herself on the floor with them, playing music on her smartphone to help her focus. She ended up with papers stacked around her as she reorganized all of her files in an attempt to occupy her mind with something— _anything_ —else. Honestly, there hadn't been anything wrong with the previous system in the first place, and now she was just surrounded by mess as she reshuffled the notes in each folio to justify her decision.

Two hours later, her office was spotless, and she had gone through at least three new filing systems. With nothing left to do for an hour, she found herself still sitting on the floor against her desk, desperately trying to unwind her conflicting feelings over the new situation.

She knew that she _should_ care about the moral implications of her decision, but the more she thought, the more she realized that she just...didn't. Not for lack of trying. For God's sake, Scarecrow had gotten Jonathan to kill his granny when they were _teenagers,_ and she hadn't even questioned it. The old woman _did_ have it coming, just like she had thought earlier that morning, but did that way of thinking make her a bad person? She had never been one for philosophy.

And now, when the opportunity presented itself to exact horrible, torturous revenge on Victor Zsasz, she had taken it without even fully thinking through the consequences. She hadn't even been able to through her confusion. _If it comes down to it, which seems likely, can I take a life the way that Jonathan did? Do I even want to?_

Yes. She did. Each thing that she came to realize about herself sent El spiraling into a new set of questions. When had she become this person? Had she always been like this, keeping busy to avoid confronting that reality?

She couldn't tell how much time passed as she took inventory of herself until finally, another look at the clock told Elianna that her first session began in ten minutes; today, she had been scheduled a series of low profile patients to be seen in her office. Sighing, she finally lifted herself off the floor. She would have time to re-evaluate her life later. For now, she needed to get to work.

.xXx.

"In my opinion, Mr. Zsasz is as much a danger to himself as to others, and prison is probably not the best environment for his rehabilitation," Jonathan spoke into the mounted microphone on the stand with steady resilience. It was getting difficult for him to ignore Scarecrow, who had become practically giddy from the anticipation of getting to "play" with the newest batch of the toxin. He was almost exploding, insisting that Elianna would finally give in to her dark side.

Both Jonathan and Scarecrow had known that it was there for a long time. Jonathan had had his suspicions when he had told her about Scarecrow for the first time, and she had accepted it, and they had been confirmed after Granny's "accident," when she had helped them cover it up and had stuck around to boot.

At a glance, someone less close to the situation would say it was denial (which she was good at, apparently), but she had no qualms talking about it when the topic came up; she simply didn't care about most things that she should. She had somehow managed to convince everyone else—including herself—that she did, and that was the part that mattered.

The trial ended quickly after Jonathan's testimony. Falcone had already paid off the judge to rule in favor of whatever Jonathan said, and the rest was just formality. As such, he had already filled out all of the appropriate paperwork for the admission and transferred the deranged man to his care. 

Finally, it was over, and Jonathan was on his way to the parking lot to make it back to the asylum when he was stopped by the most irritatingly incorruptible person on the planet.

"Doctor Crane," Rachel Dawes's voice rang through the courthouse lobby. Unable to ignore her, Jonathan paused to look at her, barely breaking his gait, suddenly needing to focus extra hard on keeping Scarecrow under control; he hated her as much as Jonathan did, possibly more.

"Miss Dawes," he acknowledged, having nothing else to say. That was passable as polite, wasn't it?

"You think a man who butchered people for the mob and attacked an innocent woman doesn't belong in jail?" Right to the point with this one, always so straightforward. Ambitious. If she would only take advantage of the ample opportunities that the city provided, she might even be able to make something of herself. Unfortunately for her, she didn't have the drive.

**_We don't need her sniffing around, Jonny. Let me take care of this now._ **

_Not a chance, keep quiet._

"I would hardly have testified to that otherwise, would I?" Politeness be damned, the insufferable woman could chalk it up to a bad day if she wanted, just as long as she didn't notice the distaste rolling off of him in waves.

"This is the third of Falcone's thugs you've had declared insane and moved to your asylum, and the fourth time you've done so for Zsasz individually." Dear Lord, was she implying that he was _corrupt?_ In _Gotham?_ Never. Impossible.

"It isn't my fault if our security officers have yet to discover his means of escape. As for the rest, the work offered by organized crime must have an attraction to the insane." There, a safely noncommittal answer, and one that held basis in fact too. He turned to leave, having just about reached his limit with the conversation.

"Or the corrupt," Dawes's heels clicked on the floor as she took a few steps after him before he stopped in his tracks again. So she wasn't _implying_ anything, just outright accusing him. Jonathan ignored Scarecrow's outraged (and far from empty) threats and caught sight of Dawes's boss in his periphery. A little childish perhaps, resorting to involving her higher-ups, but at this point, he was willing to shoot himself in the foot to avoid continuing this tiresome discussion. _Interrogation, more like._

"Mister Finch," the suited man looked at the sound of his name. "I think you should check with Miss Dawes here just what implications your office has authorized her to make." _That_ captured his attention; Finch's brows raised as he aimed a pointed look in the direction of the woman in question. "If any." _That should do it_.

**_I'm gonna get our hands on that one. Pick her brain and spit in it._ **

_There's something we can agree on._

.xXx.

As desperate as Elianna had been for any kind of distraction earlier, each of her sessions had been more boring than the last. She was still of the opinion that people with simple anxiety disorders didn't belong in an asylum; she had half a mind to sign them all out and send them back into the world. But until she learned more, she had to operate under the assumption that they had each been admitted for a worthwhile reason; but the second she was shown any sign of real-world competence, she would sign all of them out to keep them from taking up any more space. _God, what's wrong with me today?_

Before she could ponder on her behavior any further, a knock on her door signaled Jonathan's return, and she let him in quickly.

"So it's...you did it then?" She asked, still unsure of how to address the situation.

"He'll be transferred back in by tomorrow."

It was done. At this point, all she could do was trust in the combined efforts of Jonathan and Scarecrow to keep her safe with some...foolproof evil plan. No matter how much she tried, she hadn't been able to bring herself to feel guilty for wanting revenge; she couldn't help feeling justification in her decision, and it was clearly justified in Jonathan's as well, and really who else mattered in this scenario? Zsasz? Certainly not.

"Okay. Well, are you alright? You seem tense." Jonathan rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head.

"Everything is fine, just this...tedious woman from the DA's office tried to give me some trouble, but it's taken care of. I, ah," he checked the time on the clock, "I just need to go finish some paperwork, and then we can go back home and talk about this some more."

"Sounds good. I'm almost done here myself; when I'm finished, do you want some help?" She offered, and he seemed almost grateful for it.

"If you don't mind, I wouldn't say no."

"M'kay, then I'll see you later. Oh, wait, actually," Jonathan looked at her expectantly, unsure of what exactly she was bringing to his attention. "How often would you say security looks at the footage from our offices?" Good god that made him worry. _What now?_

"...Can I ask why you want to know?" She looked embarrassed, and any ideas he had had of her doing something that might incriminate them went out the window. _Dear God, what now?_

"I...may have been sitting on the floor for a long time today." She said sheepishly, and Jonathan pinched his eyes closed briefly before casting his gaze up, fully exasperated by the fact that she had found that important enough to bring it up right then. "And I'm a little embarrassed about it." Scarecrow, on the other hand, found it hilarious whenever El caused him even the slightest bit of undue stress.

"It's fine; they really only review the footage from sessions. I doubt anyone will even know." Elianna seemed relieved and nodded, a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth. "You still sit on the floor when you're worked up?"

"It helps me think," came the defensive response, and Jonathan gave her a look that said that he would tease her about it later, and finally turned to go.

Jonathan left her office for the second time that day. Only this time, she had finally realized that her conflicted feelings from before were due entirely to outside influence. For as long as she could remember, she had found it impossible to feel truly concerned about the things that mainstream society seemed to want her to be. Why should she try to force herself into a box that she didn't fit in? She could at least try to keep her mind open to revenge.

Elianna's hesitant resignation to her anticipation for revenge began to chase away any confused reservations that she had had before and gradually replaced them with a hazy excitement bubbling under the surface.


	9. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition chapter in which Jonathan explains the reasoning behind his dark deeds and El finally gets a word in about her mysterious savior.

Between her newfound acceptance of her less-than-moral tendencies and her freshly organized office, Elianna had finally been able to find peace for the day as she finished plugging all of her notes into the computer. Cognitively she knew (and had even told several patients in the past) that seeking revenge was unhealthy and detrimental to the healing process, especially if the outcome could get the exactor arrested. But God was the prospect of it attractive.

_I don't think God has anything to do with any of this._

She wrapped up the rest of her work fairly quickly, still mulling over the unethicacy of admitting patients with common phobias, finally deciding to overlook the fallacies if it meant that she wouldn't be attacked again any time soon, and gathered her purse and her suitcase before making her way to Jonathan's office after a glance over her map of the facility.

On her way, Elianna suddenly found herself wrapped in the embrace of something blonde and very shrill. "Harley?"

"I'm so sorry that I didn't check on you sooner!" El laughed and gently pried her friend off of her.

"It's okay; I'm alright." She assured with a warm smile. She barely knew Harley. How sweet of her to be so worried.

"Like hell you are, look at your forehead!" Without thinking, El lifted her hand to touch the bandaid, which was only partially covered by her hair.

"To be honest, I forgot about it. But the fact that I only needed a bandaid and not a hospital bracelet means something, I think."

"Yeah, I guess so." Harley pouted and linked her arm with Elianna's, starting to walk her in the direction she had been going before she stopped her. "I was really worried about you, y'know, and _nobody_ expected you back today. I mean, you must be traumatized! Any signs of PTSD?"

"Not yet, but I'm trying not to dwell on it. I mean, I came here for a fresh start ( _not technically a lie_ ), and as far as I'm concerned, this was just the city officially indoctrinating me as a Gothamite." Harley snorted and shook her head.

"Alright, however you want to look at it, I guess. Look, I gotta run; I just couldn't let you go without making sure you're okay. You're sure you don't need anything?"

"Not at the moment, but if I need anything, I'll keep you in mind." El stopped walking again to give the blonde a tight squeeze, which she returned readily.

"Alright, honey, say hi to Doctor Crane for me," Harley finished with a kiss on her cheek and then seemed to vanish before Elianna had a chance to say anything else.

Upon reaching Jonathan's office, she knocked and waited for him to buzz her in, and her original greeting died in her throat as she entered.

"Why do you get a bigger office than me?" She asked, looking around the space. It was still messy, just like his home office, but the chaos seemed more organized.

"Because I've worked here longer, come help me with this stack, will you?" He sighed and pushed said stack to the other side of the desk from him. El nodded and sat in front of it, taking the top file off. "Just read me the most recent notes inside, and I'll type it up." They set to work straight away, finally getting each computerized file updated after an hour or so. Jonathan stretched his back as they stood up, and El noticed that he still seemed irritated by whatever her name was from the DA's office.

"You okay? I can drive home if you want." He let out a short, humorless "ha!"

"Under no circumstances do you get to drive my car. You drive like Scarecrow."

"Wh-you let him drive but not me?" He shook his head.

"Not a chance, but he likes it when you drive, and that's enough of a deterrent for me." El rolled her eyes, but it was sound reasoning, she supposed.

"Fine, but you have to make dinner again."

"Well, the difference is that with me behind the wheel, we'll actually make it home to enjoy dinner." He replied offhandedly, snapping his briefcase closed and walking with her to the door.

"Okay, I get it, find a new joke, will you?" Her light irritation seemed to amuse him, and she muttered something about, "never should have taught you about humor," as he held open the door for her.

Once back at Jonathan's apartment, El wasted no time getting into the shower and changing into pajamas. She still had so many questions about his involvement in the underworld, and being comfortable acted as her preliminary strike against what would doubtlessly be a less than fun conversation.

When she returned to the living room, Jonathan hadn't bothered to change out of his work clothes, and it appeared that he had been trying in vain to tidy his desk the entire time. El left him to it and continued to the kitchen in search of something to snack on.

"You jealous of my clean office yet?" She called as she pilfered through his pantry. Her friend had had a weakness for goldfish ever since she had introduced them to him, as silly as it sounded. _I know they're in here somewhere...aha!_

"Hardly; I just misplaced something." He replied distractedly as she walked back in with the entire carton. "If you finish that, you're buying me more."

"Deal. So, why don't you put that on pause until after we talk about everything else?" El asked as she walked next to him and leaned back against the desk, and he stopped shuffling through his papers.

"Where do you want to start?" El thought for a moment before pulling him over to the couch so that they could sit and set the carton between them.

"Why don't you tell me how you...came into the life of organized crime?" She asked slowly, unsure of how to go about asking. Was that the right way to refer to the situation?

"There's a man, Ra's Al Gul," El was taken aback by the intense name—this really was very serious. "He contacted Falcone a while ago to find someone to make a compound that can help him purge Gotham. Falcone found me because of my specialty in phobias and recruited me to the cause. He assumed that I would be easily corrupted, working at Arkham and all." He reached into the carton for a handful of goldfish. "I guess he was right."

"O-okay, and that's why you developed the toxin in the first place." He nodded. "And this Ra's Al Gul character, he's the one shipping what you need into Gotham, what is it?"

"It's this little blue flower from Bhutan. It grows in the mountains. There's a natural chemical in it that reacts to being broken down that causes vivid hallucinations by hijacking the amygdala and creating a powerful fear response. He uses it for some...initiation process for his organization."

"So you studied it and found a way to work it into a serum." He nodded again, still slowly working through his handful of the little crackers, and suddenly something clicked in Elianna's brain. "My patients." He looked at her, his face impassive. "The ones with the anxiety disorders, there isn't actually anything wrong, is there? You admitted them to study the effects."

"Yes, I've been microdosing them with different strains of the toxin to study the results."

"Well, how do you keep them from ratting you out? I mean, if I'm working with some of them, then that means other doctors are too."

"I've made it clear to all of them that if they point the finger at me that I'll give them a full dosage. It's not like the administration would find any of my research if they cared to look anyway; it's all here." Elianna laughed incredulously.

"You really do have everything figured out, don't you? Sneaky bastard."

"I'm going to choose to assume that was a compliment." There was a quiet pause while El thought over everything she had learned in such a short space of time.

"Why does Ra's Al Gul want to target Gotham?" Jonathan half shrugged in response.

"Something about the corrupt elite, the thinks that by weeding it out, it can allow humanity to heal."

"He thinks he can _fix_ humanity by taking out one lousy city?" She asked before another thought hit her. "Hold on, you're one of the corrupt elite, aren't you? That goes against his whole plan. Why are you helping him if you're in his crosshairs?" At this, Jonathan shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I agreed to do this because if I didn't, they could find someone else to, and as long as I continue with the project, I've been promised a way out of the city safely. This has been in motion for long enough that I work directly for Ra's Al Gul now. Falcone is just involved in handling the shipments; they sneak it in with other drugs."

"Well...shit, you get to leave the city so that you don't get caught up in the...the chaos, what about me?" She had a moment of self-awareness for the selfishness of her concern, which was easily brushed off (much to her own surprise), and she did _not_ want to get caught up in the attack on the city. Jonathan turned his head to look at her, almost offended that she had even asked.

"I'm going to take you with me. I thought that would go without saying." He shifted his whole body to face her. "Like I said this morning, I do terrible things, but I wouldn't abandon you do that any more than you would to me, especially now. I told you everything; now you're involved."

El nodded in relief. All of her questions answered, she returned to thinking about how much she _should_ have been disturbed by the situation. Her best friend was involved in a plot to bring down an entire city, and she had been more concerned about her own safety than she had been about the innocent people living there.

Then again, why should she be worried? Everything, everyone, for her entire adult life had been just like high school in Arlen where the strong and privileged had punched downward at the weak for fun, and the weak were pushed to do bad things to get by. Was it not kinder to eliminate the city where it was all overlooked? Kinder to provide the weak with an out from subjugation with a choice that they didn't need to make? To exact revenge on their tormentors?

 _Really,_ she thought, _if you think about it, the only difference between them and the two of us is that we have the chance to do something about it. So why shouldn't we?_

Life in Gotham had already been so much more exciting than she had hoped for, and the promise of more in store filled her with anticipation. Why had she chosen to go so far away from Jonathan in the first place?

"Well then," she moved the carton onto the coffee table and laid across the newly empty space to put her head in her friend's lap and looked up at him. "What's the plan for Zsasz?" The littlest hint of a smile appeared on his face.

"You're looking forward to it now, aren't you?"

"He deserves it." The condemnation flew from her mouth without a second thought.

"He does, but are you sure you can do it?"

"Yes. I _want_ to do it. And if I can't, that won't change. Even if you have to do it for me, it'll be done, and so long as one of us does it and no one else, I'll be satisfied with the outcome." Jonathan found himself feeling proud of his friend, and Scarecrow echoed the sentiment; the straw man was really starting to like her for the first time.

"Well said."

"I thought so too." El smiled at him, suddenly remembering once again her mysterious savior. "Oh!" She sat up quickly, turning to face him again. "The parking lot the other night, Zsasz; there was someone else there."

"What do you mean, there was a witness?" Elianna shook her head.

"No, it was after I fell, when I got up again and I was running to my car there was someone else there, he-" she paused to decide how to tell what had happened. "It seemed like he _flew_ over my head, I don't know where he came from, but he went after Zsasz. I saw him for a seconds before I left, he was dressed in all black, and his face was covered. I thought that he would take care of Zsasz, but it seems like the police detained him, so I don't know what happened."

Jonathan thought for a moment, analyzing the information. "Well, even if whoever it was incapacitated Zsasz and called the police, it's unlikely that they would broadcast that on the media." EL nodded in agreement. 

"I wonder what his motivation was and how he happened to be there." She spoke aloud, but more to herself than to Jonathan. "If he hadn't shown up, I don't think I would have made it."

"Well, it's definitely strange, I'll give you that." Jonathan sighed. "Something we'll have to keep an eye on. If a vigilante is gearing up to take out criminals, then we'll have to be prepared for it."

"Yeah." The apartment was silent as the pair thought over what would happen if anything they were planning on doing was discovered. "I knew Gotham would give me some excitement." She finally said lightly, to which Jonathan scoffed.

"Yeah, you could call it that. Is...there anything else you may have forgotten than you need to tell me?" El thought back for a moment, fighting a chill as she forced herself to remember anything.

"No, that's it." He nodded.

"Good."

"Yeah." They both paused for another moment before El spoke again, looking to change the subject. "Now go make dinner before I'm forced to finish your goldfish; I'm starving."

"Yes, ma'am," Jonathan stood, taking the carton back into the kitchen with him. "How do you feel about pasta tonight?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another exposition-heavy chapter today. I've been trying to add these moments of our two little psychos that might reflect some more normal quirks of theirs to humanize them a bit. I also want to say for the record that I in no way agree with their ideologies, nor should anybody in real life try to relate to anyone criminally insane, but this is fanfiction. I can do whatever the hell I want to make the story more palatable, sue me.


	10. Anticipation

"So he's here today?" Elianna asked Jonathan as they walked up the asylum steps on yet another grey morning in Gotham.

"I got an email last night after you fell asleep," he confirmed. "He's been put on my case list and everything." He stopped his friend with a hand on her arm in an empty part of the lobby before they reached the stairs. "I need to make sure that you're not going to get cold feet," his voice was hushed and intense.

"Not a chance. I want to do it. I want to _see_ it." Jonathan's eyebrows raised slightly at her matched intensity. 

"Okay," he nodded slowly. "Then we'll start next week," he said, removing his hand from her arm. El found herself surprised, but she didn't quite know why. She knew that they couldn't start right away, lest they draw suspicion, but still, a whole week of opportunity for Zsasz to escape again and come after her, the thought of which made it hard for El to stay excited about the plan.

"Well, that's fine, but I think I should stay with you until it's taken care of."

"I was thinking the same thing." He agreed as they resumed their way up to the second floor.

"I'll try my best to annoy you as little as possible." She bumped him with her shoulder, and he smiled a little.

"You know, having you around doesn't really bother me that much; I just like to keep you on your toes."

"Please, don't make me laugh." El rolled her eyes lightly. "Let's see if that's still the case next week."

"Don't, please, just take the compliment and leave it at that." The growing exasperation in his voice made her laugh.

"Ohhh, I see now, that was your best try at a _compliment_." Jonathan sighed heavily and gave her a look, to which she laughed. "Alright, I'm done. See you later." She said as they reached the top of the stairs. "Tell Scarecrow I say to behave until then." She wasn't even sure why she said it, as she didn't typically like to acknowledge the alter; the comment was met with a flash of amusement in his eyes and a _genuine_ smile, not half of one, for a split second, before it was gone again as suddenly as it came.

"Can you give me a heads up before you mention him by name again?" Jonathan rubbed his forehead, looking mildly annoyed. "He's always trying to take over in public, and he really likes it when you talk about him." _Oh._

"Yeah, of course, I just didn't realize he was so close under the surface," El explained apologetically, and Jonathan waved his hand as if to say it was alright.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know," he said, suddenly tired. "See you tonight."

"Yeah, see you." El left a kiss on his cheek without thinking, and they split off their separate ways to their respective offices. A sudden arm linked through hers startled El for half a second before she looked and saw Harley.

"So what's going on between you two, huh?" The blonde asked suggestively, to which El laughed.

"Just friends. Good morning, by the way."

"Uh-huh, and whose choice was that?"

"Come on, Harley," El rolled her eyes. "Yes, I love him, but not like that. No." Harley gave her a look that said 'really?' with a raised eyebrow. "Why, you interested? I could put in a good word-" the deflection got the exact reaction that El had hoped for.

"No!" Quinzel smacked the redhead on the arm. "He's not my type, but you're gonna tell me you've _never_ thought about it? I mean, you've got to admit, he's...attractive, isn't he? Stop laughing!" El did her best to stop, but it took a few seconds.

"Sorry, just...you're right, I can't argue with that, but he didn't use to be. But now...it's the eyes, I think, they're very intense."

"Yeah, that's what it is! That and the cheekbones, very sharp." The blonde was clearly fishing for more of a confession.

"I don't know, Harley. We've been friends since _high school,_ you know? To me, he'll never be 'Doctor Crane,' he's just...Jonathan. I think anything from my side is just due to a positive association. We were there for each other right when it started mattering the most. But that doesn't mean that either of us _wants_ anything to happen." Harley let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine, but you'll still have to start fighting off other girls with a stick. I'm not the only one that thinks something is going on between you two, and some'a them are gettin' a little jealous." El laughed.

"I shall defend his honor valiantly; it'd be a first though."

"Not very popular with the cheerleaders?"

"Not even close." El shook her head and couldn't help remembering what had happened to Sherry Squires and Bo Griggs. _God, how could I have forgotten?_ Counting Granny, Jonathan had already had three bodies under his belt before they even graduated _high school_. She really shouldn't have been surprised by the recent turn of events.

"Ya know, I gymnastics and cheer in high school. I only kept up with the gymnastics, though."

"Maybe that's why he doesn't like you," El teased and poked her new friend's nose.

"He doesn't like anyone. Except for you, I don't see why you wouldn't just give it a shot!" Elianna was starting to get annoyed with the conversation. _She just doesn't give up, does she?_

"Look, Harls, if you're that concerned with my romantic life, why don't you take up the case? We'd make a hot couple, don't you?"

"Without a doubt, gorgeous," Harley agreed with a grin and a wink. "Maybe I'll kiss ya later though; I gotta go."

"Alright, take care of yourself, babe," El laughed and patted Harley's hand as she withdrew her arm and headed off to wherever she needed to be. Once she was safely out of earshot, El let out a somewhat relieved sigh. If Jonathan could have heard that conversation, he would have been _very_ uncomfortable. Even thinking about him like that felt disrespectful.

The first thing Elianna did once she was safely in her office was to double-check her patients for the day. First on the docket was Mr. Thomas, one of the inmates that Jonathan must have been using for his experiments. She had spoken to him twice before, and neither time had he shown any signs of misconduct in the facility.

Sure enough, their third conversation uncovered nothing of significance, neither about his mental state nor of Jonathan and his toxin. She was quickly learning what Jonathan had known for a long time: that fear was the best leverage. It was how his great-grandmother had kept him under her thumb for so long, and it was how he was keeping these test subjects quiet. 

_Fascinating._

The rest of the day, and then the week passed in the same way that Mr. Thomas's session did: slowly, nothing of significance. Arkham managed to avoid any trouble for an entire week, and while every passing day without incident from Zsasz (or anyone else for that matter) filled Elianna with relief, she found herself anticipating The Day more and more with every hour that passed, and it was almost driving her crazy. The anticipation did nothing to help the long week.


	11. Exacting Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that I've written Arkham in this story is very different from the movie; it's part of the AU. It's mostly for atmosphere and aesthetic. Sorry if it's confusing, I like the thought of them sneaking around; it's kinda cute, isn't it? Sneaky little monsters? Plus, like, in the movie, they just go through a door, and the whole setup is just...there???? Where anyone with a key could just stroll in? That makes no sense to me; I had to change it for my own edification.
> 
> TW for needles and drowning. If you want to avoid it, I'll bracket Zsasz's exposure with ***. A brief summary will be put at the end.

The trick to staving off impatience is to make yourself forget about whatever you're waiting for. Or at least, that was what got Elianna through the week. She had pushed the plan so far to the corners of her mind that the day of, she had forgotten that it had finally arrived.

Of course, once it did resurface on her radar, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Paperwork finished, and nothing left to do but wait, Elianna found herself bored, playing the pre-programmed solitaire on her desktop office computer. No one else was left in the facility besides the night orderlies, security, and the inmates, so when Jonathan knocked on the door, she buzzed him in without question, eyes still focused on the screen in front of her.

He came in, closing the door behind him, and when she didn't greet him straight away, he walked around to her side of the desk to see what she was looking at. She _just_ needed a place for the three of spades, and everything else would fall into place, but she was about to give up on it when Jonathan reached over and took the mouse from her, finishing the board in a few clicks.

"I hate you." El put her face in her hands, annoyed at having missed the clear space for the card.

"Thank you. Are you ready?" She nodded and shut off the dinosaur of a computer and gathered her things. 

"Is there anything I should know before we do this? Anything you need from me?"

"No, all you need to do is watch, but you can administer the serum if you'd like." He pushed his glasses up his nose as they stepped into the hallway.

"I think I'd rather watch you do it the first time, just to get an idea of what to expect. Where are we going?"

"Service elevator goes to the basement. And that's fine, just don't report me."

"I'm afraid you're stuck with me." El pushed on the door to ensure that it was locked, a habit she had developed to make sure that Zsasz couldn't be waiting in her office for her when she returned.

"Damn," Jonathan replied with dry sarcasm before, "ow," when she smacked him on the arm as they started walking for the service elevator. "If you're going to hit me, can't you at least pretend that you _don't_ want to hurt me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe I'll be your bodyguard when people show up outside your apartment with pitchforks and torches."

"I'll hold you to that." He pressed the 'down' button to call the elevator and, once inside, produced a key to allow them access to the basement. "That woman from the DA's office, Rachel Dawes, seems to think I'm up to something; maybe you should track her down."

"You _are_ up to something." El reminded him as the elevator began its descent.

"She doesn't know that. She just happens to be right." Elianna laughed softly and followed him into the dingy hallway when the doors reopened. He led her into the third closet on the left and shut the door behind them.

"Hey, this reminds me." She chimed up, and Jonathan squinted at her through the darkness. "If we don't start having sex, Harley is going to be really disappointed in us."

"Oh my God," he muttered, and she laughed as she followed him to the back of the closet.

"Yeah, that's basically what I said. I just thought it was funny. What are you doing?" Jonathan was pushing aside a stack of mattresses leaned against the wall, revealing a loose panel, which he removed and gestured for her to step in first. "Seriously?" He gave her a confused look, to which she sighed in conceit and walked through to the other side of the wall, muttering something about cliches. "Why is this even here?"

Well," Jonathan cleared his throat and stepped through after her, replacing the panel. "This place has been around for a couple of hundred years, and as you know, asylums used to be a place to shove people that society didn't want to deal with. They renovated a few decades ago but never actually got rid of these old chambers, just walled them off. In fact, they even had it soundproofed. I haven't been able to figure out why, but it's convenient. Believe it or not, I'm not the first doctor with cause to mistreat patients; I think whoever was in charge during that renovation probably wasn't the best person either." El nodded in understanding, and they went down a short flight of iron stairs, which took them around one last corner.

Elianna slowed at the tableau before her. Zsasz was strapped to an old transport dolly by the neck, abdomen, wrists, and ankles, clearly agitated by how he squirmed.

"How...how did you get him down here?"

"Well, those guards that were in the room with you that day felt bad about what happened and took the opportunity to make it up to you."

"The stairs?" She turned around and looked at them, then back at Zsasz.

"He was moved here on the dolly. It's my understanding that he didn't particularly enjoy being wheeled down the stairs." Jonathan put his hand on El's back and guided her all the way into the spacious... _What would you even call this? A torture chamber?_

When they came all the way into view, Zsasz finally noticed them. The way his voice washed over Elianna was all too familiar and reminiscent of something cold and scaley, like a dead fish, but this time she was able to brush off the sensation. She held the power here.

"Doctor Montgomery! Have you come to conduct our next session? I think we're really starting to make progress." The deranged man laughed as he struggled harder against the leather cuffs; as they approached, El could see that they were reinforced.

"Mister Zsasz, you'll be helping me with an experiment tonight. Doctor Montgomery is here as a witness, and I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from speaking to her." Jonathan interjected before El could say anything.

*******

For the first time, Zsasz seemed uneasy, and his eyes followed Jonathan's briefcase as he set it on a nearby table, unlatched it, and then revealed a false bottom. "I do hope that you aren't uncomfortable with needles," he continued as he produced a syringe and a vial of stale-looking, yellowish liquid. "Usually, I would prefer to use a gaseous form of this compound, but I'm afraid I only have one gas mask with me, and Doctor Montgomery and I are both very interested in seeing the results of this experiment." Jonathan monologued as he prepared the syringe.

El moved to sit on the table next to the briefcase setup, and Zsasz made sharp eye contact with her, and she felt a chill run down her spine for the first time in days. She found that she had almost missed the feeling as she held his glassy stare with one of her own. A vision of him in a few minutes writhing against his restraints, screaming until his lungs filled with blood suddenly appeared in her mind, and the thought made her smile involuntarily.

Zsasz, on the other hand, hadn't been expecting for her to smile and frowned uneasily, making a more desperate attempt to wriggle out of the restraints as he returned his attention to what Jonathan was doing, which was to take a voice recorder out of his case, switch it on and begin speaking into it.

"Serum fifteen, experiment one. Subject name: Victor Zsasz," he spoke into the receiver before setting on the table and advancing on Zsasz, not bothering to sterilize the injection site. El leaned forward to watch the injection, fascinated to see what would happen next. 

Jonathan stepped away from the dolly, and already Zsasz was visibly shuddering and straining against the cuffs holding him in place. El got to her feet and slowly moved closer to examine the effects.

"How does it work?" She asked, observing the way Zsasz's eyes flitted about the room as his breathing intensified. Behind her, Jonathan smiled at her curiosity before explaining.

"The serum introduces higher glucose levels in the bloodstream. Once it reaches the brain, the compound amps up the output of cortisol, glutamate, and adrenaline to the amygdala. In addition to that, the flower I told you about naturally produces a high concentration of a powerful hallucinogenic compound. Altogether, it causes the brain to go into a state of terror and hallucinate things they fear. The aerosolized version works faster, but you don't have a mask, so it should kick in any time now."

Just as Jonathan finished his explanation, Zsasz began screaming. Closer to howling actually, a haunting, inhuman sound that made Elianna furrow her brow as Jonathan spoke quietly into his voice recorder. El leaned closer to Zsasz's face to further assess his experience. His eyes shifted to her face with dilated pupils, and a look of horror overtook his face, all the while screaming and pulling at his cuffs so hard that she was surprised that he hadn't dislocated anything yet.

"What is he seeing?" El inquired, pulling away from the screaming, terrified maniac before her. Jonathan brought the voice recorder closer, now standing next to her.

"Mr. Zsasz, would you mind telling us what you see?" The howling and thrashing gave way to paranoid muttering and sudden, jerking movements as if he could catch the restraints off guard and trick them into releasing him.

"Get it out, get it out of here," Zsasz demanded in a desperate voice through gritted teeth, repeating it over and over. Jonathan frowned slightly, retreating to his briefcase and removing a burlap mask, at which Elianna couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"Was that Scarecrow, or do you still have a fixation on the one that was out on your property?"

"Where do you think Scarecrow came from, El?" He retorted distractedly as he removed his glasses and put on the mask, crossing back over to Zsasz. "Tell me what you see, Victor." He ordered again, looming over the scarred man.

"Get it out!" Zsasz screamed again in response.

"I can't take it away unless you tell me what it is," Jonathan's voice had become low and impatient; _he must be trying really hard to keep Scarecrow back since I'm here._ Zsasz looked Jonathan, or rather the mask, in the eyes— _eyeholes?_ —and his breathing grew even louder as he ground his teeth.

"Don't you see it? The water! It's rising so quickly; you have to get it out if here, or we'll all drown!" The thought of drowning causes Zsasz to begin hyperventilating.

"Aquaphobia," El mused, leaning back in. "Does that stem from your parents' accident, Victor? They died on a boat if I'm not mistaken." The desperate screaming resumed, and El observed as it was interrupted by a coughing sputter, as though he were trying not to drown. _That's interesting._ Zsasz's mind had produced such a life-like delusion of rising water that his body was reacting as though it were really there, and all the while, Jonathan had taken the mask off and was speaking quickly and quietly into his recording device.

After only a few more minutes, Zsasz's gasping breaths and twitching slowed and eventually stopped as his head lolled to the side. Jonathan checked his pulse to assess whether or not he was dead.

*******

"Subject has fallen unconscious at," Jonathan took a moment from his notes to check his watch, "twenty-five minutes." He switched off the device and turned to replace all of his equipment into his case, returning his glasses to his face.

"Twenty-five? Really?" Elianna took one last look at Zsasz's unconscious, vulnerable face. "Didn't feel that long."

"No, because you enjoyed it, you should have seen your face," Jonathan informed in a light voice as he relatched his case and tilted his head for her to walk with him back up the stairs. "Eyes all lit up-"

"Look who's talking. What's with that mask?"

"Some subjects react more strongly to it. It makes them more likely to cooperate."

"I guess that makes sense...hey, are we just leaving him down here?"

"The guards will take him back up when they see us leave; no one else will ever know." He reassured her and went first through the panel, pushing the spare mattresses back over it once they were both out. "Are you hungry? We can pick up something to eat on the way home." El hummed in response.

They emerged from the bowels of Arkham and were approaching the car when a sudden thought struck her. "Are you afraid of anything?" Jonathan looked down at her, face impassive, and opened the passenger door for her, moving to the driver's side once she was in.

"Just Granny," he finally replied after closing and locking the door.

"That's it?" She got a nod in response.

"In the early stages of the project, I hadn't figured out the system for test subjects yet, so I had to test it on myself. I had to learn to push down many things to record the results reliably, and eventually, I had done it so much that none of the other things even made an appearance anymore. I still get hallucinations of things that are traditionally 'scary,' but I get none of the accompanying physical symptoms."

"So, controlled, repeated exposure to the toxin can slowly start to eliminate your fear response?"

"It's either that, or it's possible to build up somewhat of an immunity to the toxin, which I think is more likely," Jonathan commented and finally started the car. They drove in silence for a few minutes, and Elianna found herself once again trying to make a life-changing decision.

"Do you think it would work on me?" The question catches Jonathan off-guard enough to tear his eyes away from the road for a moment to give her a look of surprise.

"Are you asking me to dose you?"

"I think I am, as long as you think it's safe." He sucked in a deep breath, his face stern, and Elianna fell silent to let him think.

"It could work, but we'll use the original formula just in case. It's the one I've tested the most, so there's less of a risk."

"Then let's do it." She said without hesitation. If there was one thing she had learned over the last week, it was that there was no use in resisting her impulses. Jonathan nodded slowly. Every day was becoming more interesting than the last with her around again, and he had the feeling that that wouldn't change any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Summary: Jonathan uses an injectable form of toxin rather than a gas on Zsasz, and it is revealed that he is most scared of dying in water the way that his parents did.


	12. It's Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for language, needles, and mention of toxin-induced self-harm.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jonathan asked from the kitchen for the third time in two days. Elianna rolled her eyes; she was getting sick of this conversation. "I think you're the only person who would do it voluntarily."

"You did it," she pointed out nonchalantly, around a mouthful of ice cream. She hoped he was making dinner; the dessert wouldn't hold her over forever. The day before, the two had visited her apartment ("why do you have so many plants?" "I don't know, but I'm glad I do, the air quality here is garbage.") to retrieve some perishables from the kitchen so that they didn't have to go grocery shopping.

"I did it for research. I didn't have a choice at the time. You do."

"Okay, look," El stood from the couch and joined him in the kitchen. "The chance of learning how to break down fear is just too promising to pass up," she said earnestly. "If there is even the slightest possibility of a positive outcome, I have to do it. Since I was attacked, I've just been getting more and more paranoid, and I thought it would go away once we started using it on Zsasz, but it hasn't. And paranoia is just going to turn into anxiety, which is going to turn into fear, and I just _can't_ handle that." Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Elianna.

"I know that there are better ways to prevent that, but if I'm going to be joining you on this project anyway, then I should get an idea of what I'm in for in case of any accidents! I mean, I appreciate that you're worried, but I just don't understand why you don't think I can do this."

Jonathan sighed and rubbed his forehead, leaning against the counter; he knew that she was right, but...

"Because I don't know what it will do to your psyche. When I built up my immunity, it wasn't on purpose, and we have no way of knowing if it will do the same for you." El mulled it over, carefully considering what he had to say.

"I understand. But like I said, would you rather me be exposed here, in a controlled, safe environment, or on accident at a time when it really matters? It's almost guaranteed to happen anyway, so I still think that I should at least know what to expect." She reiterated resolutely. "We're doing this."

Jonathan saw the firm determination in her eyes and knew that at this point, there was no way to talk her out of it. If he didn't expose her to it, she would do it herself, and the results could be infinitely worse than if he just went along with it.

But that didn't mean that he had to be happy about it.

"Fine." He lifted himself from the counter and turned to continue what he had been doing before— _making dinner, I knew it!_ El put her ice cream away before sitting on the counter, swinging her legs a little. "I know you're bored, but do you have to...hover?"

"I don't have anything else to do! If you have any ideas, I'd be happy to hear them."

"You could go out or something; I don't know. Look at you, go to any bar you don't even need to take any money. _Someone_ would cover your tab." He sounded almost bitter. _What's that about?_

"Yeah, that's a great idea. When I get murdered, then you wouldn't have to give me the toxin." She shot back.

"I thought you had a guardian angel."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that guy. I wonder what he's up to."

"I don't care." _God, what is he so upset about?_

"You probably will in a few months. Maybe we should follow the news more closely." Nothing. El let out a short breath. _Fine._ "I know you don't want to talk about it anymore," she started quietly, "and I'm sorry that I'm making you do it." He didn't turn to look at her or even stop what he was doing when he spoke.

"You don't have to apologize. I understand why you want to do it, and I do want to help. I just wish you had taken the time to think about it before your decision."

"Fine, but I've thought it through now."

"I know. Since you're so sure, we can start tomorrow after work."

"Here?" He nodded.

"You'll want to be comfortable when it wears off, trust me." El smiled and slid off the counter. Satisfied with the way the conversation turned out, she went to take a shower.

"No going back now," She called over her shoulder.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

.xXx.

It was a slow day. A really, really, _really_ slow day.

"Seriously, universe? Today?" El groaned, spinning back and forth in her chair idly. Of _all_ days, why was she only assigned one session today? She had forgotten to check her schedule before leaving the previous day, so she hadn't even known that she could go in late. _I hate looking forward to things._

For the time being, she resorted herself to see how fast she could spin her chair without knocking it over and found very quickly that the answer was 'too fast.' _Way too fast._ Already bored of that, she laid her head on the desk, trying to think of _anything_ she could do. Finally, she decided to go on a walk, see if she could find Harley or Jonathan.

It took a while of wandering before El finally caught sight of blonde hair crossing the upstairs foyer from the west wing to the east wing. "Harley!" She called after her friend, jogging slightly to catch up. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Real good!" The blonde seemed more excited than usual. "I just got assigned to one of the maximum-security cases!"

"Oh, that's great!" El forced a smile, suddenly very worried about her friend. She had been assigned a max security case with Zsasz based on her work record, and it hadn't exactly ended up well.

"I know! I've been waitin' ages to get a career-making case finally, and I finally got one! I got my first session with her tomorrow." Her?

"Who is it?"

"She goes by Poison Ivy; she's an eco-terrorist. She's got this connection with plants. Apparently, she can control them, and she goes after organizations that harm the environment."

"Well, she sounds like a badass; you'll have to let me know how it goes."

"Of course, I will. They're gonna write books about me." Harley looked at El with bright eyes, and the redhead couldn't help but smile at the thought of her friend's face plastered on a biography all over Gotham.

"Just make sure to be careful okay, those guys are in maximum security for a reason." El found herself subconsciously moving the hair that fell over her forehead, where she would surely have a scar.

"Don't you worry about me, honey. What are you doin' today?"

"Apparently nothing for another few hours." Elianna sighed.

"Aw. Anything interesting?" She shook her head in response.

"I think Jonathan asked them to keep the dangerous ones away from me until I have more experience here. I mean, Zsasz didn't kill me. It's not like I'm helpless, right? I was savvy enough to get away twice." Harley bobbed her head in agreement with a sympathetic look.

"Well, maybe he's right; you're new in Gotham. It might not be a bad idea to let you settle in a while longer."

"Yeah, but now I'm only treating patients with borderline anxiety disorders. _Borderline_ , Harls!"

"Aw," the blonde tsked and patted her friend's arm. "I'm sorry, honey, it'll get better. Oh, shoot!" She checked her watch. "I gotta go, I'm gonna be late. Maybe we should get lunch this weekend, whaddya think?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice. Go on. I'll talk to you later." El sighed as Harley rushed off to her appointment. _That didn't last nearly long enough._ She was now stuck where she had been before and made her way back to her office.

_Who would have thought there would be so little to do in the most notorious asylum in America?_

.xXx.

Finally, the end of the day came, but Jonathan's awful speed limit driving made Elianna antsy. She was _so close._ Besides all of the reasons she had given Jonathan over the last few days, she couldn't help but be curious about what it was like to be under the influence of the fear toxin. Seeing Zsasz's reaction had sparked an interest in the experience, although she couldn't fathom why.

"It's weird, isn't it?" She asked half an hour later as she helped Jonathan put leftover takeout in the fridge.

"What is?"

"Coincidence. Probability. Chaos theory."

"You _need_ to stop watching Jurassic Park. It's turning you into a monster."

"Over my dead body, and you know what I mean." Jonathan closed the fridge as they finished and looked at her expectantly. "Well, my mom and I just _happened_ to move to Arlen, out of all the places we were looking at. Then we _happened_ to move down the road from you, and we had some classes in common. And even after all that, I still could have been really shitty and tormented you, or ignored you, or you could have been successful in keeping me away. _Then_ we still managed to stay in touch after high school from opposite sides of the country, which is super rare, even in friends, and on top of all that we happen to have the same interests, and now here we are working in the same place after all of that, which led to tonight. To the decision I made."

Jonathan considered her words, leaning back against the counter, eventually nodding in agreement.

"It's not too late." He said quietly. "You can still change your mind."

"I'm not having seconds thoughts." El insisted gently, standing next to him and leaning her head against his arm. "Actually, I was thinking about how lucky I am to have this opportunity. Do you know how many people would jump at the chance to confront their fears? To try and fix themselves?

"Yes, I do, and it's not a good thing." El looked up at him, surprised by the empathy. "If no one were affected by fear, then none of this would be possible, and I wouldn't be able to continue my research." El stared at him in incredulous silence before laughing.

"Because _that's_ what it all comes down to. You're really fucked up, honey."

"Look who's talking." He said with a little smile. He couldn't put it off any longer. Scarecrow was ecstatic that Elianna had volunteered for this, and it was giving him a headache. "Come on, let's get started. I'm going to give you a small dose, so hopefully, you'll be able to sleep afterward." El nodded as they straightened up, making their way to the bedroom.

She could hear Jonathan adjusting the bedsheets while she was in the closet, putting on more comfortable clothes. When she came out, he had folded them all to the end of the bed so that she wouldn't get tangled. 

"I'm going to say this in advance: shut up." El gave him a confused look as he opened the false bottom of his briefcase and produced a set of four restraint cuffs that were usually attached to the medical beds, at which point she raised an eyebrow. "We needed a way to holds your limbs down so that you don't hurt either of us, just...don't." He said exasperatedly as he began to affix them to the head and footboards. El snorted, with a little smile; there was nothing she could say to make fun of him that Scarecrow probably wasn't saying already.

"Do people...hurt themselves often?" Jonathan nodded. 

"Once or twice, they try to gouge out their own eyes, things like that." El swallowed herd, suddenly very glad to have such a thorough friend. "Which reminds me, I didn't think about it earlier, but I do have neighbors. We'll need to find something for you to bite down on; I've also had people bite through their own tongues." At that, El shivered and returned to her duffle bag, where she knew she had packed an old belt.

"How often would you say that happens?"

"Not too much, but it does make a mess, and we sleep here." Despite her sudden nervousness, El laughed softly at the ever-tactful Jonathan Crane. Normally she might be upset with him after that comment, but here she was volunteering for that risk.

She set the belt on the edge of the bed and positioned herself in the middle of the mattress, trying to prepare herself for something from which she didn't have a clear idea of what to expect. Gently, Jonathan lifted her head and slid a pillow underneath; the small act of care made her smile to herself as he continued to secure her wrists and ankles, careful not to tighten the restraints too much.

He took a few extra minutes to prepare the serum, during which she agreed to let him take notes. If they were moving ahead with this anyway, he might as well conduct his research on a new subject.

Jonathan was just about to put the belt in her mouth when El had a sudden thought, turning her face away. "Scarecrow, he's under control? He isn't going to try anything, is he?"

"No. He's excited, but he promised to be good. And he's impressed that you're doing this willingly." Satisfied with the answer, El nodded and let the belt between her teeth, biting down securely.

At that point, Jonathan prepared the syringe with a translucent fluid, flicking the chamber and getting rid of any air bubbles. "This is an old batch, so the effects might be a little less intense than they would normally be." Unable to speak, El nodded. He swabbed clean a patch of skin on her arm and gave her a look, giving her one last chance to change her mind. With no fault in her resolution, he finally pricked her vein and injected the serum into her bloodstream. 

The concoction was thick, and El could feel it burning through her veins for only a moment

and then everything took a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will consist only of what Elianna sees in her hallucination. To write it with the proper weight behind it, El has some of the same phobias and fears that I do, so I'm not really looking forward to writing it.
> 
> To any more sensitive readers, DO NOT feel obligated to read the next chapter. I will upload the next two at the same time so that you can skip it over. Again, you will miss no important plot if you choose to skip the next chapter after reading the trigger warning at the beginning, and you can skip straight on without sacrificing any understanding of the story.


	13. Worst Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How appropriate that this chapter should happen to be the thirteenth.
> 
> Okay, on with the trigger warning. This chapter contains trypophobia and arachnophobia, fear of the dark, and fear of excruciating pain. If any readers have ever had any traumatic or upsetting experiences with sleep paralysis as I have, I would STRONGLY ENCOURAGE you to skip this chapter. The next chapter will launch back into the story and provide a brief and disconnected summary of this one, so I promise you won't miss anything.
> 
> I love all of my readers, and your mental health is my foremost priority. There is no obligation to this chapter, so please take care of yourself.
> 
> That being said, there is a little bit of fluff at the end of the chapter from Jonathan's perspective. Feel free to skip down and read that :)

As soon as the toxin took hold, the room grew dimmer. In fact, it seemed to Elianna that the lights in the bedroom turned off completely, and her surroundings were illuminated only by the light coming in from the living room and the large window overlooking the city.

Already, El felt herself growing nervous. It seemed silly as an adult, but she had always been afraid of the dark. Jonathan usually left the bathroom light on when they would sleep, but the light coming from the living room was far too dim to stave off her anxiety.

As she stared at the doorway, trying to focus on what little light she could see, a figure slowly came into view, effectively blocking the door and dimming the room even further. It was the shape of a man with no discernable features, flat black in front of the light. She recognized the figure from her occasional episodes of sleep paralysis; she knew it wasn't real, but _oh god,_ when it started walking toward her, she nearly forgot that it wasn't. It was tall; the top of its head had nearly touched the top of the door frame.

Her teeth dug into something as the figure drew closer, carrying a box, and she suddenly remembered the belt. _Jonathan._ She turned to look at him for some reassurance, suddenly needing to convince herself that this wasn't real, but what she saw wasn't Jonathan. She made a strangled noise, not quite a scream, when she saw that another shadow creature now occupied the chair that he had been sitting in, but this one was...different. It was covered in dark grey markings, just barely visible over the void of its body, and it took her a moment to recognize them.

Tally marks.

Zsasz.

At that point, her fear got the better of her, and she pulled experimentally at her arm restraints as she turned to look straight up at the ceiling, trying and failing to keep her breathing controlled and quiet.

However, when the other approached from the other side of the bed, she couldn't help but give it her attention, eyes wide and fearful, her breathing labored and loud around the belt. The first shadow was now hovering over her, barely a foot away from her face as it seemed to examine her.

Her mounting fear grew every second that it remained in that position until tears began to prick in her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was from her seeming inability to blink or the knowledge that this was only the beginning of what was sure to be a life-changing experience.

Finally, the figure straightened up, now towering over Elianna's vulnerable frame, and lifted the box high, holding it over her body. El resumed her struggle to get free; she didn't know what was in the box, and she didn't want to find out.

After holding it over her for almost half a minute, listening to her muffled whimpers and cries of terror, it finally upended the box over her.

A cascade of spiders, varying in size and species, cascaded in slow motion onto her abdomen and immediately begin to spread out, agitated by their fall. Only then did El begin to scream in earnest, her voice too quiet to hope for help around the belt still held clenched in her teeth. She tried her best to shake them off, but no matter how hard she tried, the thick cuffs securing her limbs reduced the movement to restricted thrashing, only angering the arachnids more.

_No no no no NO NO get them off, get them off of me, PLEASE!_

Elianna watched in horror as a particularly large one on her thigh appeared to open its mandibles, frightened by her sudden movements, and bite down _hard_ on her leg, just below where the material of her pink pajama shorts ended.

A dramatic, searing pain surged through her whole leg, and the tears finally fell; she couldn't help the cry of pain as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, the shooting agony sending a wave of nausea through her stomach.

When she opened her eyes again to see the wound, she was instead met by a tight cluster of holes in the soft flesh of her thigh, slowly spreading down her leg. At that point, she was thrashing and screaming in earnest, unable to think anymore.

The shadow man _was_ real; she knew that now. She couldn't have made this up; she couldn't have, could she? And piling onto the pain and the terror, there was the _betrayal._ Jonathan had just left her there, and that thing had taken his place. El began to cry, _really_ cry. She cried from the abandonment, the pain, and the sheer, unadulterated _fear_ that was overtaking her.

More and more of the spiders were biting now, each one leaving another cluster of holes in her skin, but it felt to her as though her distress had reached a plateau.

However, the shadow figures seemed to realize that, and the one in the chair stood opposite the first, creating a towering wall of darkness and menace around her, closing her off from anything and everything else.

El's eyes frantically darted between them, her fear mounting again as they waited to do whatever it was that they were going to do. Suddenly, they were each holding her, one hand around her wrist and one around her ankle, effectively removing all ability she had to move.

Together, they began to squeeze her joints, gradually applying more and more pressure until it hurts, and they didn't stop for a second. Finally, they were squeeing so hard, constricting her blood flow, and El began to feel her bones shifting, groaning, grinding together, and then cracking, _shattering_ underneath their grip, the enormous pressure that they exerted, and they still didn't stop.

The pain was unbearable, and El screamed as loud as she could, the sound still barred by the belt between her teeth as the lining finally gave way, and she finally bit through it and into the thick, supple material that it was made of underneath.

Her mind could only take so much of the pain and the terror, and she felt her vision finally, _mercifully_ , going black around the edges. The pain dulled to numbness. Fear, to numbness. Everything was dull, and she felt heavy and dizzy and _numb_ all at once and then finally

nothing.

.xXx.

Jonathan had sat through many of these experiments, and when it started, he had thought that he would be able to sit through this one just the same. He had told himself that just because it was Elianna, that didn't mean that it would be any different.

He was wrong. At first, everything went as normal. There had been times before when they slept in the same room, and she had woken him up with a nightmare, so the initial labored breathing had been easy enough to sit through.

But that had changed when she had turned to look at him, looking for a lifeline, and instead found something else. She had made a sound of distress, quiet and pathetic, and jerked her gaze away quickly. From that point on, he had felt a growing and genuine concern that he wasn't used to, and soon after abandoned his notes. It was an old recipe anyway, already tested to hell and back.

For a while, he had thought about leaving, moving to the other room to avoid the feeling but feeling that he couldn't. To know that he had indirectly caused this for her, and then to leave her on her own through it...he knew when he had the thought that he wouldn't be able to handle it, and although he couldn't do anything to stop it, he stayed there in his seat out of principle.

It seemed like a lifetime of watching and listening to her struggle and cry before she finally began to lose consciousness. Slowly, her eyes finally fluttered closed, and her body stopped twitching. He quickly checked his watch to record the time (he had abandoned his notes, but he knew that they would talk about it the next day) and pushed down the unwanted anxiety as he checked her pulse.

_Good._

_**Boy, that was really something, wasn't it? Maybe we should do it again tomorrow; it was fun to watch her squirm. Real fun...** _

Jonathan ignored Scarecrow, angry that the straw man could still think about their friend in that context after what they had just watched. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he pried the now ruined belt from her teeth and undid the cuffs that held her spread eagle, and gently moved her up near the headboard with the pillow still under her head in the hopes that she would sleep soundly.

He was still distracted as he dressed for bed and finally laid on the other side of the mattress, carefully pulling the blankets over her. He laid in bed for a minute before getting up to turn on the bathroom light for her, hoping that the combined lights from there and the living room would help her to relax if she woke up.

After returning to bed, Jonathan stared at the ceiling, pondering over what had happened. He wasn't _confused_ per se over the feelings of worry that he felt for Elianna. He had felt that plenty, but never so deeply. His thoughts were interrupted when the fitfully sleeping Elianna made a distressed noise and rolled over, reaching for something. He frowned as he looked at her, silently reaching out to touch her arm. In an instant, she was gripping his wrist tightly, using it to pull herself closer, until she was curled up at his side, holding his arm like a lifeline and her face pressed into his bicep.

He sighed deeply, deliberating over what to do. Before too long, he decided to go ahead and remove his arm from her grasp, only to carefully pull her closer, tucking her head against his chest and putting his arms around her. It wasn't something he would usually do, not even in the few times that he had been intimate with somebody, but he El had done the same for him countless times in Georgia, and he found himself still trying to repay her kindness after all these years.

It was strange for him to feel indebted to someone in this way. His connections with the mob, with Ra's Al Ghul, the favors given to him were repaid easily, through favors and money. But Elianna's sacrifice of time and care and support were so different and had to be returned in kind. He suspected that if she slept through the night, she would never know that he had done this, as he was sure to wake up before her.

That reminded him; he fumbled for her phone, which she had placed on the nightstand next to him. It took only three guesses for him to find her password and turn off her alarm for work—another favor.

That being done, Jonathan was finally able to settle in, and as though she could sense that, El wrapped her arm tighter around his torso, squeezing herself close. Jonathan rested his free hand on her arm, keeping her in place, slowly dozing off to the familiar sound of her soft breathing as she slept.


	14. How Could You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a quick overview of El's hallucination in this chapter, just a heads up.

Elianna awoke the next morning with a sore throat, a headache, and a dull ache in her wrists and ankles. With a groan, she rolled onto her stomach, half hoping to suffocate herself in the pillow. She gave up on that after a few seconds, reaching for her phone to check the time.

_8:37? I'm late for work. Shit._

She scooped herself out of bed as quickly as possible, fighting off all the various pains in her body, and stumbled to the bathroom. She was halfway through brushing her teeth when Jonathan entered with a mug of coffee, which he placed on the counter next to her.

She recalled the night before and how angry she was with him for leaving her alone there.

But she was in no position to refuse coffee, so she finished brushing her teeth and rinsed her mouth before taking the mug from him with a glare.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ugh," she shook her head, pulling her makeup bag closer to her.

"Alright, stop getting ready; I already called in. You're taking a sick day, and I'm taking care of you." El shoved the bag away from her again and picked up her coffee as she walked to the kitchen for breakfast. Jonathan rolled her eyes at her tantrum and followed her; this was clearly about more than hating mornings.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? You're the one that insisted on doing it."

"Yeah, I am." She retorted angrily, slamming a cabinet shut. "And you left me alone in there." Jonathan was taken aback, both by the statement and by her anger. It had been a long time since he had seen her like this, but it had never been directed at him or anyone else who didn't deserve it.

"What are you talking about? I was in the room with you the whole time."

"No, you weren't! I thought you would be, but I looked over, and there was someone else there, and you were gone, don't _lie_ to me!" He raised his hands in surrender and slowly walked closer. 

"Elianna, listen to me. I didn't get up from that seat until you finally passed out, okay? Just think about it, whoever you saw sitting in that seat was just projected over me." Her glare didn't falter for a second as he spoke, but he could tell that she was thinking. "Why would I lie to you about _this,_ of all the things I could have lied about since you've known me?"

She didn't reply to that, and the glowering look never left her face, but she looked away from him, clearly considering his words very carefully. Eventually, her brow softened, and she put her face in her hands, shaking her head.

"No, you're right." She strained, pushing her hair out of her face. "You're right. I'm sorry, I just got agitated; it made me a little fragile."

"That's better." Jonathan nodded. "Let's go sit, and you can tell me about what you saw, and then we can have breakfast because I get the feeling that this should take priority." El bobbed her head in agreement, and they walked together to sit on the couch.

Over the next few minutes, she explained everything she had seen; the shadows (explaining that the one in his seat clearly represented Zsasz), the spiders, the holes (when she got to that part, she began to scratch nervously), and finally the way the shadows had broken her bones before she lost consciousness.

"How long would you say that it lasted?" Jonathan asked clinically, his face inscrutable.

"I don't know, maybe...half an hour?" It was a low estimate. Her first estimate had been a full hour, but she knew that the trauma could have affected her sense of time. Even so, she was shocked when Jonathan shook his head.

"Actually, it was about fifteen minutes. A little less, maybe." He took in her look of surprise and confusion. "I know it's disorienting. Do you have any questions?" El thought for a moment.

"I understand most of it, I know what I'm afraid of, but I just don't get why Shadow Zsasz took your place instead of just coming with the other one. I mean, does that mean that I'm somehow afraid of you?"

"No, the toxin changes your perception of your environment, that includes people. That being said, I think there is a reason, but it's more abstract than physical."

 _That would make sense._ El knew that she had some mild abandonment issues, and the way that Jonathan explained it, that was the best explanation she could come up with. It made sense that she would be afraid of Jonathan leaving her behind, given that he was the only person of significance in her life. The initial shock had worn off, and after the constructive conversation that they had had, she now found herself preoccupied with other things.

"So...they're not going to have a problem with me taking the day off, are they? I mean, I've barely been here for a month."

"El, I think if anything, they'll be relieved that you're taking a personal day. After everything with Zsasz, people were surprised that you would even go back to work." 

"What can I say? I'm a fighter." She grinned. "Breakfast?"

"Breakfast." They returned to the kitchen, and El thought about the duration of the hallucination. It had felt so _real_ and so _long._ _I guess that's the point, though, isn't it?_

"So, fifteen minutes? Is that a normal amount of time for that strain?" He shook his head.

"When I first tested it, they all lasted closer to half an hour, like you thought." He ran a hand through his hair. "I normally don't continue to test a formula once I make a new one. Now I'm wondering if the effects don't last as long if the batch is older, or if that was specific to you."

It _was_ an interesting thought. The deeper she fell into this plot, the fascinated she became with the idea.

Purely professionally, of course, for the science of it. It was strange to admit that she had always had a hard time empathizing with people. Sympathy was easy enough to fake through, but empathy was a different beast entirely. However, her experience with the fear toxin had made it incredibly easy to empathize with its victims.

Not Zsasz. He had deserved the treatment, and she was sure that given another chance to do it again that she would take it gladly. But even her recent harsh thought that the people of Gotham all deserved punishment (or release, depending on the type of person), now that she had experienced the effects for herself, it was hard to hold onto that thought.

She knew it would happen one way or another, regardless of her level of involvement, so the best option was just to keep with it to avoid the fallout. And she didn't necessarily feel the need to _prevent_ the city's apocalypse, but maybe she would keep her interest in the project purely for educational purposes.

"Well, can't you just test it on someone else?" Jonathan pulled it over.

"I suppose we could run it on Zsasz. I have just enough left of that batch for him, although his previous exposure may skew the data..."

"I mean, it's not like you'll be using an old formula for the attack. This test would just be for your own edification. In which case, the fact that it still works should be enough." He turned his head and gave her a look, a sly smile on his face.

"You just want to poison Zsasz again." El flushed slightly, stammering for a response.

"Now that I know what it's like," she began defensively, "I feel like I might be able to follow his experience a little better. Appreciate it more." He just looked at her, still with the corners of his lips turned up knowingly.

"Whatever you want, El. Sometime this week, I promise. I've been developing a new recipe as well. I think it'll maximize the potency; maybe you'd like to help me mix the testing batch." She nodded. It would satisfy a curious thought to watch the toxin be made. 

"I'd be happy to."

"Good." She could see a thought cross over his face before he spoke again. "I'll need to run an errand later today. It shouldn't take long."

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"That woman from the DA's office, if she thinks I'm doing something, then she isn't going to stop until she finds out. I'm going to see if there's something that can be done about her."

Elianna decided that she'd rather not know what that meant or who he was meeting about this particular issue. Unsure of exactly what to say, she offered a noncommittal, "good luck," in response.

The rest of the morning passed without incident: breakfast, idle conversation, followed soon by Jonathan getting dressed and heading off to...wherever he was going.

_What exceptionally convoluted bullshit I've gotten myself into this time._


	15. The Nicotine Crutch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for smoking

"No more favors," Jonathan began, sitting across from Carmine Falcone, the man himself. "Someone is sniffing around." The mobster leaned forward aggressively.

"Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine, Doc." Jonathan repressed an eye roll. Falcone always seemed to insist upon calling him that, regardless of the fact that he had a perfectly good name. "I'm bringing in the shipments." _That_ did succeed in irritating him visibly; Jonathan's eyes narrowed slightly, and he pushed his head forward in a mirror of Falcone's body language.

"We're _paying_ you for that."

"Maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favors." The older man shot back with no hesitation. Both exasperated and amused, Jonathan sighed and removed his glasses.

"I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by _me,_ Mr. Falcone."

**_Yeah, how could he be?_ **

_Keep quiet, you._

"But you know who I'm working for," Jonathan continued, "and when he gets here-"

"He!" Falcone interrupted, his sudden nervousness manifesting in the sharp way that he raised his hand. "He's coming to Gotham?"

 _Good._ That was the exact reaction Jonathan had expected. Ra's Al Ghul was indeed coming to Gotham, and soon. "Yes, he is. And when he gets here, he's not going to want to hear that you have _endangered_ our operation just to get your thugs out of a little jail time."

At that, Falcone nodded solemnly, suddenly taking the visit very seriously. "Who's bothering you?"

 _Finally._ "There's a girl at the DA's office." Again, Falcone nodded; he was familiar with this problem.

"We'll buy her off."

"Not this one," Jonathan shook his head. If only Miss Dawes were that simple.

**_Oh, I wouldn't say she isn't simple, just stubborn._ **

Jonathan chose to ignore that comment, regardless of his agreement.

"Ah, idealist, huh?" Falcone shrugged, entirely unaware of Scarecrow's antics. "Well, there's an answer to that too."

"I don't want to know," Jonathan replied truthfully. Scarecrow was bound to get overzealous of whatever was in store for the infuriating woman and become even more of a chore than usual.

"Yes, you do." It was clear by the look on the older man's face that he thought he was doing a power play by insisting upon an explanation.

_Does arrogance come with ignorance or the other way around?_

It didn't matter either way; he sat through Falcone's childish power trip, and just as expected, Scarecrow loved every second of it. _How tedious._

Once finally on his way back home, Jonathan reflected on how wholly pointless Falcone's rambling was. He couldn't for the life of him figure out where the old man had gotten the idea that he held any power in the operation; if he hadn't agreed to bring in the shipments, someone else would have. He was easily replaceable.

His thoughts turned to El waiting at home. He was sure now that she wouldn't try to administer the toxin to herself, but this morning he had sensed a return of her previous reservations for the project. It was to be expected; he had known of her psychopathy for a long time, but it seemed that she remained unaware of it. It was just like her to be aware of everyone else's problems except her own; he supposed it was easier to integrate that way. And after all, she had been repressing it for decades; it was hard to overcome that sort of thing in a few days.

It didn't matter anyway. Jonathan was confident that she would accept it by the time this was all over. All that was left to wonder was how long it would take.

.xXx.

Meanwhile, Elianna found herself smoking on the fire escape. Once Jonathan had left the apartment, she had gone to the window to watch for his car leaving, and as soon as it did, she had taken an errand of her own to the gas station down the street.

She had forgotten, however, to watch for her friend's return. Upon hearing the door unlock, she cursed to herself. She had never had to sneak around when smoking before; she forgot to be on the lookout. However, at this point, it was too late to hide it, so she took another long drag off of her third cigarette, mentally kicking herself.

"El?"

"I'm out here." She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. She could almost hear Jonathan's confusion as he approached the window, replaced quickly by mild irritation.

"What are you doing? I thought you quit years ago." He inquired, carefully climbing out onto the fire escape with her.

"I did." Another deep inhale. "Turns out that stress is a hell of a relapse trigger." Jonathan sighed as he sat next to her.

"I know I don't have to tell you that it's bad for you..."

"Then don't."

"But there are other things you can do to relieve stress." He waited for a response as she took one last long drag before extinguishing the now used up cigarette as she blew out slowly.

"I don't care. This helps. Not actually, obviously, it can't take away the stressful situation, but it's something I can control." She flicked the butt out onto the street below before opening the carton for another, lighting it smoothly.

El thought that she knew better than to offer one—Jonathan had never smoked anything a day in his life—and was shocked when he reached for the little box and removed a cigarette. She turned to look at him sharply, the first time she had looked at him since he had gotten home, and he took the lighter from her hands.

"What are you doing?" He shrugged in response and lit the stick between his lips, making a face at the taste.

"Believe it or not, I'm stressed too." He explained as he took it from his mouth and breathed out. "That tastes awful, though." El laughed.

"Yeah, it helps if you squeeze the filter." She reached over and did so, hearing the pop between her fingers. "Not much, but still." Jonathan took another experimental puff; she was right on both counts.

"I don't see the appeal," he said, raising it back to his lips for another hit. El chose not to comment on this.

"So, is everything taken care of?" He nodded.

"As good as. From this point on, we should focus on mass production and getting it into the water main. We should have enough, but I'd rather be prepared."

"Prepared for when?" El watched his face, cigarette forgotten.

"We're scheduled to go into operation in a few weeks."

El was surprised. That soon? She felt that she had only barely dipped her toes into the project; she needed to earn her way into the shared immunity that Jonathan had offered her. Would a few weeks be enough time?

"Then I need to get used to the toxin; we have to do it again," she insisted, trying and failing to keep the urgency out of her voice.

"You just did last night. You need a break!"

"Did you take breaks when you were experimenting on yourself?" Jonathan floundered for a moment.

"No."

"That's what I thought. We're doing it again."

"Fine. But we're going to work tomorrow. It'll have to wait until Friday." El thought about arguing for a moment, but she knew that her friend was just as stubborn as she was, and judging by his tone of voice, this was not an argument that she would win.

They sat on the fire escape for hours, chatting about mindless things and eventually finishing the pack, at which point they finally went back inside.

Elianna went to bed that night knowing that the next few weeks would be big. She wondered again if she had made the right decision by moving to Gotham and fell asleep running through the moral quandary that her actions presented and wondering why she couldn't bring herself to really care about the destruction and chaos that she was abetting.


	16. Round Two?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Doing a bit of a time skip here. I want to really get into it finally—mild trigger warning for smoking and a syringe right at the very end.

El had been right about her mysterious savior in that his interference grew to be something that could be quite a nuisance to them. It wasn't long after Jonathan's meeting with Falcone that he had returned with a new, tricked out getup. Rumors around town had confirmed that it was the same man and seemed to solidify the vigilante theory.

Gadgets or not, the pair had yet to see the effects of the toxin on the caped crusader. Jonathan had come home that night composed as always, but she had recognized the troubled look in his eyes. Between that and the attack on Falcone, it seemed that whoever was having little trouble sniffing out their plot.

"What's the bad news?" She sighed, putting down the book she had been reading. Jonathan just shook his head in response, loosening his tie.

"The bad news-" he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, "is that Rachel Dawes is still alive, and rumors are that she has some leverage over the judge that Falcone paid off for the organization."

"Oh, shit," El put her forehead in her palm. After all of the traction that the so-called 'Batman' had gained so quickly, the last thing she had expected was to hear that the meddling DA was still around. "Well, wait, the bad news? Does that mean there's good news too?" She lifted her head again, relieved to see him nod.

"That microwave emitter that I told you about, for the final stage, it came in, it's all ready to go. If-" he cut off the look of excitement on El's face, "we can prevent the DA's office from throwing another wrench in."

"Jonathan, don't worry about that." She rolled her eyes and stood from the couch. "They have leverage on the DA, not Falcone's staff at the shipyard, and before they can build a case, they need to have proof that we even have it."

"If they get a warrant-"

"Then the boys at the docks will take care of it, that's what I'm trying to say. Now, will you relax? Everything is going to be fine. We have the machine, and we have _more_ than enough of the toxin."

Jonathan was still leaning back slightly against the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. Elianna sighed, silently cursing her friend's perfectionist nature, and moved his hand away from his face and replaced it with her own hands on either cheek.

"Can you just _once_ relax and appreciate your own work? Do you need a cigarette?"

"No, I don't need a cigarette; they're disgusting. I need to find a way to foolproof this damn thing."

"It _is_ disgusting, it's absolutely revolting, but I think it'll bring you into the present and give you at least a couple minutes to step away from being you." She patted his cheek and nudged him toward the fire escape window.

"From being me?"

"Yeah. Let's not be you right now. Let's be me instead, and be proud of your work." Jonathan rolled his eyes but went along with her. 

_Maybe it wouldn't be_ so _bad to stop thinking for a minute._

**_You'll listen to her and not me? I'm very hurt, Jonny. You don't share a body with_ her.**

Standing outside smoking, leaning against the rail, the pair stared out at the city before them.

"Look at that. It's disgusting. You should have come to California with me when you had the chance." Elianna teased and elbowed Jonathan lightly. He responded by exhaling slowly and giving a look that said 'maybe.' "Okay, look; you're still not being me, you're not here. Look out there," she pointed with her cigarette. "Gotham is _falling apart_ , and if I remember correctly, it has been for decades. What _you_ are doing with this project will end all of that once and for all. This city is a stain, and you're cleaning it out, once and for all."

A long pause hung between them as Jonathan let his friend's words sink in. She was right, and for the first time since the beginning of the whole plot, he felt a sense of pride for his contribution. Ultimately, this was for the greater good, and he would be the one to pull the trigger on it.

Pride was quickly replaced with a relaxed contentedness, and Jonathan took another drag, almost enjoying the taste.

"Actually," he began, "I think now _we_ are cleaning it out. Give yourself some credit." He turned El's little speech back on her and watched as she floundered.

"Well, I—I haven't really done anything, I'm just sort of here, and honestly, I should have gone back to my apartment agesago-"

"There isn't really any point now; there are only two weeks before we start." El nodded and returned her gaze to the skyline.

"I'm sorry for being in your space for so long. I really didn't mean to be here still." She turned her head to look at Jonathan.

"I already told you, I like having you around." El's eyes widened at the genuine admission. "Besides, if someone were to come after you, I'd rather you not be alone. I think we both know how that usually ends up by now." He finished with a grim smile, and the redhead nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to come back to the late Granny Keeny.

Remembering the painful and dangerous situation in which her friend was brought up made her sad, and she moved closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad I could help. I know I give you a hard time, but I love you very much." El told him matter-of-factly, planted a kiss on his arm before returning her head to his shoulder, and took a drag off the stick between her fingers.

Jonathan found himself glad that she couldn't see his face, as her words caused his eyes to shut of their own accord. Even Scarecrow's filthy encouragements were drowned out as he privately reveled in El's affection. The insecure teenager still inside of him reminded him that whatever she said was meant platonically, but he allowed himself a quiet moment to pretend.

Connecting with people had never been his strong suit, and that fact had continued to hold into adulthood. But being around Elianna every day again for the first time in years served to remind him of the benefits of personal relationships. Even so, it frustrated him to no end that he had yet to figure out whether his attraction to his friend was based on the comfort of her presence or something else.

Even thinking about it made him tired. Slowly, almost tentatively, his head rested on hers. In response, her free arm wrapped around his to keep him there.

Unbeknownst to Jonathan, Elianna was facing a similar dilemma. It was a debate she had been having with herself since she had moved to Gotham, and as much as she wanted to convince herself finally to take the chance, now was most _certainly_ not the time. Besides...

"It's Saturday."

"Yes, it is."

"You said that we were going to dose me again; we were supposed to do that last night."

The moment broke, and Jonathan let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, if you're so eager," he extinguished his half-smoked cigarette and tossed it down onto the ground below with El following suit.

Once back inside, the pair both went automatically to prepare for the ordeal. As Elianna settled onto the bed, Jonathan spoke again.

"You know you don't _have_ to do this again. We were already going to get you a gas mask like the one I have."

"I know." She replied simply, and with a Look, Jonathan began fastening the restraints.

"May I ask why you want to do this so badly?" There was a silence as the redhead pondered her answer.

While some of her motivation came from the perspective of 'just in case of an accident,' she was reluctant to admit the real reason: that once the toxin wore off, the flooding of endorphins left her exhilarated and wanting more. That the rush of surviving something traumatic and harrowing, even just an assault on her psyche, left her feeling powerful, if somewhat exhausted.

Despite her reluctance, Jonathan seemed to know the answer already.

"The thrill of making it through?" El couldn't help the short laugh that escaped.

"I guess that sounds kinda crazy." Jonathan shook his head.

"Not at all. I went through the same thing." He assured as he finished fastening all of the restraints and retrieved the old belt from the dresser where it had been left. "Just remember," he continued as he placed it between her teeth, "that I am going to be here the entire time, alright?" Before he could think about the action, he laid his hand against her cheek comfortingly. Reading her expression, he nodded, "I promise."

El nodded and took a deep breath through her nose to prepare herself, staring at the ceiling before nodding firmly. With that, Jonathan wiped the injection site clean with an alcohol swab and carefully stuck the prepared needle into her vein, and pushed in the plunger.


	17. From Protector to Pathetic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀😗 I hope you all like angsty cliches as much as I dooooo!

It seemed to Jonathan that Elianna had learned from her first experience with the fear toxin. While she still fell unconscious once it began to wear off, the effects didn't last as long, and in lieu of frightened screaming, she had managed to restrict herself to quieter sounds of terror.

Upon seeing his friend's distress diminish as her eyelids grew heavy, Jonathan unfastened the restraints and took the belt from her mouth. When he turned his attention back to her, he found that El had already curled in on her side; she would twitch every few seconds, each one accompanied by a soft whimper, whether from perceived pain or from fear he couldn't tell.

Even so, he once again felt pride well up in him as her body relaxed more and more. He was surprised to find that she was still barely lucid when he laid down and pulled the blankets over them. Magnet-like, she was suddenly tucked against him, seeking warmth. Once the shock by the speed of her movement wore off, he allowed himself a tiny smile and secured his arms around her as Scarecrow piped up with his usual assortment of vulgar persuasion; easily ignored at this point.

Elianna finally relaxed into a deep, exhausted sleep, the material of Jonathan's shirt bunched up in her hand. He was very quickly growing reaccustomed to her unconscious insistence for closeness in her sleep. He found his fingertips skimming up and down her arm lightly as his thoughts returned to the execution of the attack on Gotham. 

Admittedly, Elianna's insistent reminder of all that he had accomplished in the process took away much of the stress and replaced it with a sense of premature victory, which was very welcome in comparison. Jonathan found himself slipping into sleep more quickly than he had in a long time.

.xXx.

That didn't last for very long, however, as he was tugged back into semi-consciousness after a few short hours by El shifting uncomfortably in her sleep while muttering to herself. Jonathan blinked in the darkness (he had forgotten to turn on the bathroom light, damn), trying to bring her face into focus. He had only barely made out her furrowed brow and defiant frown when her voice began to raise, along with her poorly coordinated movements.

Jonathan had long been accustomed to soothing her back into sleep without waking her up when she had nightmares (which was concerningly often), but this one was clearly escalating faster than he could wake himself up.

That was, until whatever she was experiencing reached a crescendo, and she bolted upright, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath, followed by a short cry of torment. In an instant, Jonathan found himself next to her, his hand on her back. Instinctively, she leaned into the touch, pressing sideways into his chest with another anguished sob as her friend tried desperately to unscramble his tired brain.

This was troubling, to say the least. Generally speaking, El didn't really _cry._ Not like that, anyway. She hated to cry; she considered it a 'waste of energy,' in her own words. Even when she had occasion to, it was usually just a quiet tear or two and didn't hinder whatever else she may be doing.

But sitting there, listening to his friend actually _sob_ in earnest, Jonathan found himself getting worried. Quietly shushing her _(what the hell is that going to do, idiot?),_ he put a hand on the back of her head to hold her in place as she sucked in another shuddering breath.

"Breathe, El, breathe." She didn't respond, but she did make a second, slightly more successful attempt to take in a normal breath. "That's it; everything is fine." Jonathan cursed the brusqueness of his voice, still barely awake enough to even speak, let alone police his tone. "It's okay," he tried again— _better._

Gradually, El's breathing evened out, but she continued to cling to Jonathan like a lifeline, trembling. Once again, he found himself disturbed by the extreme reaction; this was not normal.

Eventually, she sat back up, still shivering and with tear tracks just beginning to dry on her face, which bore no expression as she stared blankly forward at the opposite wall. Jonathan waited patiently for her to speak first; his hand had returned to her back, still uneasy.

However, he was comforted when she finally let out a frustrated sigh, disgusted by her own lack of control. "Round two nightmares are a bitch," she offered flimsily. Caught off guard, he couldn't help an amused scoff.

"Clearly."

"I can't remember the last time I cried like that, ugh," she wiped at her face, all fear replaced with frustration. "That was so annoying. I'm sorry." The apology was punctuated with an awkward half-laugh as she feigned confidence. It wasn't convincing, however, as she wouldn't look at him as she spoke. "Go back to sleep; I'm just going to get some water."

Jonathan considered joining El in the kitchen as she shambled in the direction of the kitchen, but he was just...so tired... Surely a moment to herself would do her some good anyway.

Once in the kitchen, Elianna flicked on the light and took a moment to brace herself against the counter as she scrambled to compose herself. _What a stupid situation._ She was no stranger to nightmares, having often been plagued by them for her entire life. _So why was this one so different?_

She knew why. Being in such proximity to Jonathan again had not only stirred up old worries but had given them new form as well. When he had first confessed to her his situation with Granny, many of her dreams had depicted her finding him dead somewhere, pecked to death by crows, or starved to death, or any other horrible possibility.

But their dynamic had shifted so much since they were teenagers. Whereas back then, she had been the protector, their roles had been reversed drastically, and as such, her Jonathan-fueled nightmare had borne a very different image.

Doing her best not to think about it, El finally filled a glass of water and drank it slowly.

In the meantime, Jonathan was facing a dawning realization of guilt. In all of the times that she had been woken by a nightmare when he was around, Elianna had never...snapped like that before. She had blamed it on the toxin, and maybe that was true to an extent, but he was sure that the impending attack on Gotham had played a larger part.

And the only reason she was even in the city was that he had selfishly orchestrated for her to be there. If he had just ignored the application on Warden Sharpe's desk, she was sure to still be in California, bored but safe. As such, he felt a sense of responsibility for her continued wellbeing, and to his mind, this episode made clear what a dismal job he was doing. She was even _smoking_ again, for God's sake.

When she ambled back into the bedroom a few minutes later, Jonathan had resumed a horizontal position, one elbow covering his eyes. Thinking he had fallen back asleep and not wanting to wake him again, El crept back onto her side of the bed carefully.

 _It was just another nightmare. Just go back to sleep,_ she commanded herself, shaking off the remaining worry. _Just another really intense, very real feeling, vivid, horrible nightmare,_ she thought grimly as she remembered flashes of what she had seen.

_The city in chaos, fire, destruction, screaming, pain; Jonathan standing over her, watching as she begged for help ("please, don't leave me here, you promised!") before he walked off, leaving her alone, injured, and at the mercy of the panicked, violent citizens of what used to be Gotham..._

A movement from the other side of the bed startled her out of her thoughts as she released her breath from her tight chest. Blinking through the darkness, she saw that the arm that had been previously thrown over Jonathan's face was now stretched out between them.

"Come on, you know you're going to end up over here anyway," came his tired voice by way of invitation. After a moment's hesitation, El obeyed and once again found herself tucked up against her friend's torso. "So, what happened?" Jonathan asked as his arm wrapped around her and felt a sharp intake of breath from the redhead.

"It doesn't matter." He waited patiently for her to elaborate. "I already know you wouldn't leave me behind." _Oh._ Almost subconsciously, he squeezed her tighter.

"No, I wouldn't." The finality in his tone did well to reassure El and quell the final remnants of her apprehension.

"No, of course not. Doesn't matter," she murmured to herself, holding him close.

"Doesn't matter," Jonathan repeated affirmatively, clearly drifting back to sleep judging by his voice, and El found herself at last in a similar state. She hummed a response and kissed his shoulder before the pair finally slipped back into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise they ALMOST kissed, okay? I wanted to add some more fluff to this piece, and when I first got the idea for this chapter, I was like, 'ooohhhhhh yes, it's gonna happen!' and then as I was writing, it just...didn't. Honestly, it almost happened in the last chapter, too, out on the fire escape.
> 
> Don't worry; I promise it will happen eventually.


	18. Unstoppable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really cheesy! I decided to dip my toes into the traditional fanfic style, so this chapter is sort of mushy and sweet, or at least I thought it was. I hope you enjoy!

El had come to hate the weekends. There was no substance to her days off now that she knew the thrills offered by the wretch of a city. Jonathan wouldn't let her run his underworld errands with him; an attempt to keep her safe from Falcone, he said. While she understood and appreciated the sentiment, the result was dreadfully long and slow weekends. They couldn't go to Arkham to supervise the project, lest they draw suspicion, and if Jonathan wouldn't take her with him to meetings, it left her with very little to do in the apartment.

Luckily, the day after her nightmare Jonathan had no reason to leave the apartment. On the other hand, he had spent his day worrying over her incessantly. Well, as much as Jonathan _could_ "worry incessantly" in his own subdued way.

He had let her sleep in for hours, made her breakfast when she woke, and she was currently curled up on the couch next to him with the softest blanket from his linen closet. He had even let her pick the movie they were watching.

"Hey, Jonathan?"

"Mm?"

"Am I dying or something?" He looked across the couch at her, confused. "You're being really nice today. Are you still 'being me,' or am I dying?"

"Oh. Neither." He fell back into silence rather than offering the explanation that El was looking for. She waited patiently for a minute or two, giving him the opportunity to explain himself of his own volition before sitting up with a huff and pausing the TV, moving to sit next to him.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" El watched as Jonathan set his jaw firmly, releasing a long slow breath, all the while staring inscrutably at the coffee table. By the time he finally looked at her, the anticipation had made her too anxious even to admire the hue of his eyes as she normally would.

"Last night, you..." he trailed off and let out another sigh before continuing, "it made me worry. I've been thinking all day, and I'm wondering if maybe you would be better off leaving Gotham now and going somewhere without me." Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it. Her brow furrowed, and she struggled to organize her thoughts enough to argue as he spoke again. "I know you, and I know that that wasn't normal, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten you involved."

"So what?" she sputtered. "Jonathan, you got me involved, but if I didn't want to be still involved, I wouldn't be. Don't worry about me. You're not responsible for my decisions."

Her words did little to soothe him, and he leaned against the back of the couch with his head tilted all the way back to look at the ceiling. "No, I'm not, but this is clearly taking a toll on you. I just think it might be better if-"

"I understand what you're saying, but you're wrong," interrupted El. "If I were to leave now, I would just worry about you more. Without me, you're on your own here, and it's going to take a lot more than some stupid _bad dream_ to make me _abandon_ you. I know that you can handle all of this on your own, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to keep supporting you in whatever ways I can."

He was technically right, to an extent; it wasn't normal for a nightmare to break her like that. But the fact remained that it was only a dream, and the fact that it had immediately followed a dosing of fear toxin only served to solidify her point further. _It would never have affected me like that if I hadn't insisted on a second toxin trial._

Jonathan mulled over what she said for what seemed like ages, to the point that Elianna wasn't even sure where his train of thought may have taken him. Regardless, she knew that he must have been trying to come up with some absurd reason why she should leave anyway. Deciding to let him think (and knowing that she would win this debate with this move), she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and lifted his arm to slot herself against his side.

He looked down at her as she settled his arm around her back, only to find her already looking up at him patiently with big green eyes. _Shit._ He could never argue with her when she looked at him like that, and she knew it. He did his best to steel his resolve, but then she blinked at him _so sweetly_ that he had no choice.

"Fine," he sighed, finally looking away from her. "But no more toxin. From now on, you're just helping me supervise, understood?" He felt her nod fervently and wrap her arms tight around him. How did she always manage to get under his skin so well?

"I can't believe you thought you could get rid of me that easily," she scoffed. "I'm here to stay, love. I left you behind once, and I'm not going to do it again." Jonathan was amused by the childish notion behind her words but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

He was silently glad that she had pushed against him on this particular issue. While he still believed that she would be safer away from the city, he really didn't want her to leave. She was too... _important._ As proven by how easily she could get him to concede _just by looking at me, for fuck's sake._

"You know I would never try to get rid of you." Jonathan still faced difficulty coming to terms with her effect on him, but this time he didn't have the energy to fight it. Deep down, he knew that he had let her win, selfishly wanting her to stay. Unwilling to resist, he let his cheek rest against the top of her head. "Sometimes I might think about it, but I'm not stupid." He felt her laugh.

"Understandable." She tilted her head back to look at him, and he lifted his head from hers to mirror her gaze. A soft smile spread over her face. "One of these days, I'm going to get you to admit outright that you love me." She said smugly, undeterred by his impassive expression.

He could tell by the look on her face that she had begun speaking absentmindedly, but Jonathan found himself more focused on the conversation in his head; naturally, Scarecrow had his own opinion on what El had said.

**_She's got a point. We should just get it over with now._ **

_That isn't what she means._

**_Sure it is! See the way she looks at us? Come ooonnn, what's the harm? If it goes south, I'll just take care of it._ **

_You absolutely will not._

**_I still don't see why we shouldn't get rid of her anyway. Loose ends, Jonny. If she's dead, she can't snitch._ **

_She isn't going to. She would have done it already, and she's never told anyone about everything else we've done; why would she start now?_

**_Yeah, and why do you think that is? Principle? Honesty? She likes us, Jonny. If you don't_ ** **_take care of it_ ** **_now, then I will._ **

With that, the straw man retreated to the back of Jonathan's mind in smug silence. The ambiguity of Scarecrow's ultimatum made him nervous, as he was unsure of what Scarecrow's version of "taking care of it" might be. But Jonathan knew ultimately that his alter was actually right this time. All of the jokes, the affection, the trust, and when she looked at him the way she had done just a minute before...

It was almost terrifying to think that the woman he had held so dear for so long might harbor feelings for him, and the true rush of the unknown exhilarated him. As strange as it would be, Jonathan knew what he wanted to do and resolved on the spot to act upon it before he could talk himself back out of it as he was wont to do.

"Not verbally, necessarily," she spoke up again, "but one of these days, you're going to do something, and I'll kno-"

The rest of El's sentence was cut short by something that could not have caught her more off guard, and while some part of her seemed to process it immediately (judging by how hard her heart was beating), it took a moment for her brain to catch up.

Jonathan had interrupted her by cupping the side of her face with his free hand and, in one fluid motion, had tilted her head back more and kissed her full on the mouth ever so softly. Her mind hadn't yet finished racing with unanswered questions when her internal monologue switched abruptly to, _"oh, fuck it."_

At that moment, she didn't need to understand anything. By way of response, she lifted her own hand to close lightly around his wrist, keeping his hand against her face and returned the tentative kiss with one of her own.

Both of their stomachs exploded into butterflies, but for vastly different reasons. Jonathan felt a rush of relief from the reciprocation and a flutter of nervousness caused by sudden instability for the future that it implied. In the same moment, Elianna found an emotional release and a thrill caused by the same unclear future, eager to build something new, powerful even.

Whatever her motivation, when El kissed him again, Jonathan was more than eager to return the action, and all of his apprehensiveness began to melt away. It was a rare moment of clarity for him, as he found himself truly in the moment. _She_ had kissed _him._ Things that had been so important to him only minutes before were suddenly irrelevant, and when El pulled away and buried her face into his neck, holding him so tight, he was all too glad to squeeze her closer.

He thought that he had never been more determined to do anything as he was to keep her safe previously, but having finally given in to the impulse that he had been repressing since their teen years, Jonathan realized his previous resolve had been trivial. _This,_ with all of its implicit devotion attached, changed everything so drastically. Nobody would ever hurt her again; not Zsasz, not Scarecrow, not anybody.

It was a good feeling, if a bit overwhelming. Following his new theme of letting himself enjoy the things he wanted, Jonathan allowed himself to feel at ease, content. He even cracked a smile when a small voice chimed, "I told you so," from somewhere near his collarbone.

"Yes, you did." He stroked back her hair and left a lingering kiss on top of her head, and felt her delighted smile split her face as she hugged him tighter (if that was even possible).

"Now you're really not getting rid of me. You know that, right?"

"I know. That's what I wanted." El hummed happily in response, breathing in the smell of his clothes. Being wrapped up against him like this felt... _right._ Like this was what their entire friendship had always been leading to, and now that it had been fulfilled, nothing could stop her.

Ever at the whim to her desires, and knowing that Jonathan couldn't be relied on to do the same, El straightened back up to stand on her knees and captured him in another kiss, deeper than before. With no protest, Jonathan locked his arms securely around her waist to keep her close and responded in kind.

Everything else forgotten, the new couple passed the day away in a world of their own making, testing the limits, and exploring new possibilities. Totally focused on each other, they both forgot everything about the killing of the city, the crimes they were committing together, the hells they had been put through, _all_ of it wiped away; with every kiss, every gentle touch, every movement erased _every_ atrocity, past and future. The new, stronger nature of their companionship made them _unstoppable._


	19. Hands Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self harm

"So you're tellin' me absolutely _nothin'_ is goin' on between you two?" Between sessions, Harley had come to visit Elianna in her office for a chat. "Aren't you still staying at his place?" It seemed that the blonde still had yet to give up on the idea of El and Jonathan together; the only difference now was that she had ended up being right (a fact that the redhead had made sure to remind him of as they laid in bed catching their breath the day before. He hadn't found it quite as funny as she did).

"Yeah—wait, how did you know that?"

"I was pullin' into the parking lot behind you guys this mornin'."

"Uh-huh, we drove separately, stalker." El quirked an eyebrow with an expectant smile.

"Right, so you just _happened_ to arrive at the same time? Just 'cause you didn't take the same car doesn't you're not comin' from the same place."

"Alright, alright," El laughed. "He's got some errands to run after work, so I promised to make dinner."

"Aww," Harley exaggerated the syllable, knowing it would get under her friend's skin.

"Oh, cut it out." El rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I already told you, nothing is going on." The blonde just laughed in response. "Hey, how's your big case coming along?"

As Harley enthusiastically began to tell whatever she could about her sessions with the self-named Poison Ivy, El used the distraction as an opportunity to recall the day before smugly to herself.

Already, the recent change in their relationships had its ups and downs. On the one hand, it almost seemed like a dam had burst; their dynamic flowed more smoothly, and for her part, she felt as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders. On the other, when he had told her that morning that he had to oversee the handling of that night's delivery personally (since Batman had effectively put Falcone out of commission), her usual worry for his safety had doubled.

Something that Elianna and Jonathan had in common was a lack of experience with real relationships. As such, they shared a sense of profound importance in regards to the new arrangement. It would take some work to balance the now heightened concern they held for each other.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was in his office trying in vain to occupy his mind by shuffling through the stack of administrative paperwork that the warden's office couldn't be bothered to sort through before sending it to him. Between the unexpected hitch in the master plan and trying as hard as he could to not think about El (on that count, Scarecrow was actively working against), he was struggling to make it through even the very basics of his job.

At that moment, for example, he was grappling with his schedule for the day. Falcone had been taken to Blackgate and apparently had been asking to see him for a few days. Jonathan had been putting off visiting the mobster since he had found out; he had been caught by a civilian in a cape and a mask; what could he possibly have to discuss with such a disappointment to the underworld? Today, however, he had received word that the older man had cut his wrists, and the administration at Blackgate had sent for him specifically.

As if that weren't enough, he had already had to clear his schedule for that night to oversee the shipment, given that Falcone was now indisposed.

There was no getting around it, though, he supposed, and found himself back in the car en route to Blackgate. However, the drive wasn't nearly long enough for Jonathan to quell his frustration in Falcone's incompetence, and before too long was meeting with the mobster's caseworker.

"Doctor Crane, thanks for coming." There was a thinly disguised urgency in her voice as she greeted him.

"Not at all," he replied, barely remembering to keep his tone patient. "He cut his wrists?" How irritating it was to fake concern. 

"Probably looking for the insanity plea," well, at least the woman was pragmatic, "but if anything should happen..."

"Of course, better safe than sorry." He nodded as they approached the door to the private room that Falcone had been brought to. With that, the caseworker unlocked the door to let Jonathan in and let the door swing closed behind him. 

Falcone didn't skip a beat. "Hey, Doctor Crane, I can't take it anymore. It's all too much; the walls are closing in, blah blah blah," the old man rambled dryly. "Couple more days of this food, it'll be true." Jonathan found himself steeling himself against the urge to let Scarecrow come out as he settled into his chair.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know how you're gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut." _The ego of a powerful man is truly something indigestible, isn't it?_

"About what? You don't _know_ anything about the operation."

"Maybe not specifics, sure, but I know you don't want the cops to take a closer look at the drugs they seized. I know about your experiments with the inmates of your nuthouse." Jonathan listened and watched as patiently as he could as the tiresome man continued to talk. "See, I don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets." At this point, Scarecrow was banging against the proverbial walls of their brain, desperate to retaliate. "Those goons you used. I own the muscle in this town. Now I've been bringing your stuff in for months. So whatever he's planning, it's big. And I want in."

**_Can you believe the balls on this guy? Let me out, Jonny._ **

_Not yet; he still doesn't have a leg to stand on._

"Well, I already know what he'll say. That we should kill you." _Just because we haven't yet doesn't mean that we won't, old man._

"Even he can't get me in here. Not in my town." Jonathan was growing tired of this conversation very quickly. 

"Your town." The psychiatrist repeated, not a question—a mockery. The older man's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh, did I forget to ask? How rude of me, I forgot the most important part. How _is_ your little lady friend from the asylum?" here the mobster leaned in threateningly, "Does she know what you're doing? What's gonna happen to her once you go down, I wonder. Maybe I'll send some people to make sure she's not alone, huh?"

Now _that_ caught Jonathan's attention. The rest of Falcone's little threats were easily avoided; even he didn't have the power to endanger Ra's Al Gul's plans. He did, however, have the power to have unspeakable things done to Elianna. _That_ would not stand.

Jonathan made his decision from there quickly. Scarecrow was overjoyed that El had been brought into the discussion, knowing that Jon would have to take it seriously, and was raring to be in control. 

Jonathan sighed and removed his glasses, hearing the straw man begin to cheer in the back of his mind. "Would you like to see my mask?" He asked, opened his briefcase without waiting for an answer, popped open the false bottom, and reached for the mask, ignoring the several full syringes waiting to be used. He had added a new rig to the case, and it was as good a time as any to test it out. "I use it in my experiments. Now, I'm probably not very threatening to a guy like you," he continued, holding up the mask for emphasis, "but these crazies? They can't stand it."

With that, he made to put the mask on and let Scarecrow take over.

He could barely hear Falcone's quip about the nut taking over the nuthouse over the ever surreal feeling of taking the backseat in his own brain.

Once his face was secured, Scarecrow took great pleasure in pressing the button to release the cloud of toxin. The screams of terror began almost instantaneously, much to his delight, and he rose from his chair to loom over the mafioso.

 **"They scream, and they cry,"** he teased with menacing glee. **"Much as you're doing now."** Jonathan allowed Scarecrow a few more seconds of enjoyment before regaining control. They still had to leave undetected, and Scarecrow couldn't be trusted to be professional. As much as Jonathan enjoyed hearing the man who had _dared_ to threaten El scream, he was more trustworthy when it came to subterfuge.

"Well, he's not faking," Jonathan cleared his throat as he reentered the hallway, greeted by the caseworker's concerned face. "Not that one." He was still a bit flustered by the rush of inflicting such horror upon someone. _Move on, Jonathan, act normal._ It was a bit of a blur after that, promising to talk to the judge and get Falcone transferred to Arkham before making his way back to the Asylum himself. He still had a few patients to see before he could punch out to oversee the shipment that evening.

However, once the rush wore off, Jonathan found his mind wandering back to what Falcone had said about El. Who knew what he could have told his people already? He stopped by El's office before returning to his own and was surprised to find her no longer there. A quick phone call to the secretary at the front desk told him that she had already left for the day—another phone call to find that her cell phone was dead.

_Shit._

Jonathan forced himself back to the matter at hand, telling himself that she was fine, but the lingering worry stayed in the back of his mind.

For about an hour and a half at least, when he decided that he was done with work for the day. The sooner he could take care of business, the sooner he could rush home to make sure she was there.

In the car on his way to the meeting site, Jonathan tried calling her again to no avail.

 _I really need to get a home phone for the apartment;_ he cursed to himself. 

He found himself unable to focus on the task at hand as he parked his car and got into the one being driven by the goons provided by Falcone. Any of them could have received orders at any point to take El, hurt her, _anything._ He had no way of knowing if instructions had already been given or what liberties were allowed should anything happen to her.

Behind his impassive expression, Jonathan was operating almost solely on autopilot, getting out of the car and entering the old apartment that served as a drop point. This one had already been used twice before, and given how close the end date was, he had already decided to eradicate any and all evidence once the job was done.

He looked disinterestedly over the pile of stuffed bunnies, appraising the shipment's size, doing quick calculations in his head to the best of his ability. After concluding that it was, in fact, the correct amount, he gestured to the goons to retrieve the substance from inside of the toys. "Get rid of all traces."

Jonathan couldn't help the disgusted look around the dilapidated apartment. He couldn't think of anywhere he wanted to be less at that moment. Distracted by the sheer quantity of distasteful thoughts swirling in his mind, he was almost startled when Scarecrow spoke suddenly.

**_There's someone else here._ **

That statement froze all other concerns as he tuned in to his environment. He barely registered one of the thugs telling the others to torch the apartment as he noticed a prickling on the back of his neck, as well as the open window.

Jonathan remained calm and in control as the other men began to douse the furniture in gasoline while he moved to examine the window.

_Are you sure?_

Before the straw man could answer, the sound of shattering glass from the other room stole Jonathan's attention from the window.

 _ **Yes** , _came the smug response. Wasting no more time, Jonathan let the other goon move to investigate and instead moved into the shadows to retrieve his mask.

_You're up again, Scarecrow. Do it fast; we have to get home._

**_Yeah, yeah, you've been annoying me for hours; she's fine. Would you shut up about it?_ **Retaliated Scarecrow as he forced Jonathan out of the driver's seat and took over, relishing in the drama of wearing his face again.

That moment didn't last for very long before his suspicions were confirmed, and the Batman himself burst into the room, swiftly incapacitating the leftover thug. Luckily, Scarecrow's reflexes were just as fast, and he released a cloud of toxin from their sleeve rig, which hit the caped crusader squarely in the face.

The effects were almost instantaneous, judging by the wide eyes behind the cowl and the erratic, flailing movements. Scarecrow stifled a laugh as the armored man toppled backward away from him.

 **"Take a seat,"** he taunted, thoroughly enjoying his playtime, **"have a drink."** Here he seized a bottle of vodka abandoned by his now useless goons. The staw man snarled mentally, understanding Jonathan's intolerance of incompetence. They would be eradicated along with the evidence of their crimes. Splashing the booze on the caped man in delight, he continued to tease him.

 **"You look like a man who takes himself too seriously."** Scarecrow abandoned the now empty bottle and replaced it in his hand with a zippo lighter that El had left in their pocket.

_Wait, she loves that thing-_

_**We'll buy her a new one, pipe down.** _

He had corraled Batman in front of the window and sparked the lighter, extending it in front of him menacingly. **"Do you want my opinion? You need to** _ **lighten up.**" _With that, he tossed the lighter, which ignited the caped crusader and the old rug in seconds.

This allowed them a swift escape, as Batman threw himself out the window and plummeted with the rain onto the pavement several stories below. Wasting no time, Scarecrow had them outside and in the getaway car. Luckily, there was a spare key in the visor, and they sped down the street in the direction of where they had left their car.

_Slow down! We're attracting attention; we don't need that._

_**You're the one who's been bitching about getting home for the past few hours.** _

Not letting up for a second, Scarecrow turned a fifteen-minute drive back to Jonathan's car into a five-minute one before finally retreating to his place in the back of their mind. Of course, on principle, Jonathan was still irritated with Scarecrow for behaving so recklessly, then leaving him to deal with any potential consequences. Still, he _was_ glad for the saved time.

By this point, Jonathan was so frenzied with panic about El's wellbeing that he couldn't even think about their own run-in with the Batman. Still ten minutes away from home, he tried to call her cell once again. Still no answer.

_Why the fuck won't she pick up?_

Scarecrow didn't respond, finally picking up just how agitated the whole situation had made his counterpart. Best not to rile him up further.

Jonathan nudged the car faster. Only a few minutes away, but it felt like forever. He was so frantic to get home and see Elianna safe that he couldn't even think of what he would do if she weren't. No game plan, not even a shadow of one _because she's okay_. Or so he kept telling himself. 


End file.
